Conflict
by Psycho Kitty Alchemist
Summary: After hours of getting no sleep, Astrid attempts to clear her thoughts by taking a walk around town. But her attempts to clear her mind are put on the back-burner by Berk's latest and oddest resident. Astrid/Hiccup. Random drabbles. Named after first.
1. Conflict

_**Author's Note: **This is just a really long, pointless one-shot. I don't think I'll anything more with it. The idea just popped into my head one day after having a long conversation with one of Role-Playing buddies and couldn't get it to just go away no matter what I tried. So I spent a large chunk of my day writing this out for her to see._

_Sora (Kingdom Hearts) is copied righted to Tetsuya Nomura, Square Enix, and Disney._

_How To Train Your Dragon is copyrighted by Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell._

_I don't own anything, which is a good thing if you asked me. Aside from the idea of naming Astrid's Deadly Nadder "Birdbrain", but that's not really that big a deal since the dragon doesn't have an official name (to my knowledge). The reasoning for it was that Nadder's are supposedly bird-like and names are supposed to be misleading and scare trolls away. Then again, Astrid's name doesn't follow this code, but I figured I'd go along with the idea and thus "Birdbrain" has stuck for me ever since._

Just what had she done wrong? Just ask her and Astrid would probably tell you. Actually... scratch that. Astrid would be more likely to deck you for asking such a stupid question. She was bitter towards herself and guilty of crimes that she, at the time they were committed, hadn't realized were so terrible. She was guilty of adding onto Hiccup's problems growing up. Guilty of not at least attempting to make his pain easier to bear simply because she didn't want to be associated with him and upset her parents. Guilty of only adding to the problem by choosing to ignore her enemy-turned-friend when the others chose to pick on him. She was bitter toward herself for letting such emotions get the better of her. Bitter for giving away a hint of her despair to the one person who had enough on his shoulders without her dumping her problems on him. The concoction of mixed emotions didn't stop there. Astrid was worried and upset about what had transpired because of the defeat of the Green Death. Hiccup's lack of half a leg and the haunting memories of the boat ride home had done nothing to ease her troubled mind. Add onto the stress of having to adjust to dragons living alongside them, the unease all of Berk rightfully had toward their new scaly neighbors, and the added presence of one alien brunette and his space craft and the whole mixture of emotions was almost too much for one human being to bare.

A startled yelp, a protesting squawk, the smell of burnt hair, and the frantic footfalls of somebody running from Ragnarok itself would have been a funny and welcoming sound had it not been so late at night. Sleep had been fleeting after the entire events of the day began to weigh down on her, and Astrid had hoped a walk around Berk would ease any qualms she had. She'd been too lost in her train of thought to realize Birdbrain was following her at a safe and tolerable distance. Nor did she take notice in the beaten path she was subconsciously traversing. It wasn't until Birdbrain's squawk and the smell reached her clouded mind that Astrid came back out of her shell of memories and misfortunes.

Good thing too. The blond barely managed to side-step in time to avoid being run into.

Sora managed to swerve at the last second, landing roughly on his side next to Birdbrain's clawed left foot. Mere seconds later, a flock of six Terrible Terrors was on him. And less than a minute later, all of the little dragons were snapping, kicking, and hissing at one another like jealous siblings. One spat a stream of fire, barely missing its target of another Terror and setting one of Sora's hundreds of hair spikes on fire. Again. Sora licked his thumb and put it out before it became anything more than a smoldering tip. Three of the Terrors were rolling around, a mass of sharp hisses and flapping wings. Sora pushed himself up off of the ground in time to be greeted with one Terror on his head and two more in his lap, watching the others pummel each other in a similar fashion as Ruff 'n Tuff often did to each other. Birdbrain seemed to find the whole situation amusing and made a clicking sound similar to a chuckle. It wasn't until then that Sora realized just where he was and he blinked up at Astrid stupidly.

Astrid stared back at him before looking over the fussing dragons. They had somehow tangled themselves up in a ball of scales, horns, and sharp teeth. Begrudgingly, Astrid moved over and bent down, going to work to untangle the little monsters while receiving a few light nips of her own. Birdbrain had little tolerance for it and showed it by approaching her blond rider, reaching down, and nipping right back at the tiny reptiles. They seemed to get the message and calmed down enough for Astrid to finish the job without further incident.

Once they were all clear and removed from one another, Astrid stood back up and looked over toward Berk's latest resident. Sora hadn't moved an inch, seeming quite content to just sit where he was despite the three dragons roosting on him. Astrid's unspoken question seemed to hit one side of Sora's head and go around, completely missing his train of thought. Or at least that was the impression she got by his blank expression until he let out a few sheepish chuckles. "I had to go to the bathroom, and they ambushed me," he explained calmly before gently scratching one of the Terrors in his lap near the base of one of its horns.

Sora had woken up from his sleep after being seized by the strong desire of nature to relieve himself of waste products. It took him several minutes of wondering around the inside of the massive house, peeking around every door, tripping around in the dark, nearly bashing his head against the stairs, and almost waking up Toothless to notice the outhouse through a window. So Sora had made a break for the outdoors, nearly tripping over his own two feet at the steps that lead the front door and forgot to put on his shoes. By the time his happy butt had yanked open the door to the outhouse, Sora received a face full of screeching scales and fluttering wings. The shock scared him so much he had forgotten his earlier needs and ran in the opposite direction, knowing the dragons were hot on his heels.

They really should have warned him about that. Terrible Terrors had always been known to roost in odd, small places, but with them recently becoming actual members of Berk, the random locations had gotten worse and even stranger. If they could fit their body into it, they were going to be there at some point or another. And, needless to say, it was still more than awkward to go to the nearest outhouse only to get a face full of fire for waking one of the little devils up prematurely from a nap.

Sora obviously hadn't changed since they had brought him into town. He was still garbed in his strange black attire, but he was missing his short-sleeve jacket, gloves, and sneakers. Now you could tell his feet weren't actually as big as his shoes implied. Astrid was still within her battle outfit, having not seen fit to bother changing since she knew she wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight, but her usual axe was missing. Her braid was a little loose with a few stray hairs set free from tossing and turning all night, but she was still the same Astrid other than that. Well, that, and she obviously hadn't gotten any sleep.

The Great Hall was alive with excitement in the distance, but over what, Astrid didn't know. All she did know was that if that was going on and Sora was still here, then Stoick the Vast hadn't been home yet to know his son was housing a foreigner. Honestly, she wasn't even sure how the Viking chief would take knowing that Sora was the so called "Keyblade Master" from the old stories rarely told anymore. The guy was still trying to get used to having a Night Fury in his house for crying out loud! Add one goofy looking kid who looked about as strong as Hiccup and Odin only knows what sort of things would take place.

More of the realization hit Astrid once she noticed where she had ended up during her mindless walk. The blond looked away from Sora, seeing the tall and almost impenetrable lodge that everyone in Berk knew belonged to the village chief. She knew she shouldn't have been shocked that she found herself there, but she was none the less. Between her unease at the presence of a new comer and her steadily growing guilt, it would have been nothing short of shocking if she found herself anywhere else. The three Terrors at her feet skirted away from her, each curling up with their sides shoved up against some part of Sora's body. The brunette didn't seem uncomfortable with their presence. He quietly laughed under his breath and reached over to gently massage one of the previously squabbling Terrors between the shoulder blades. It purred and shoved itself further against him in response.

"So, what's up?" Sora popped the question smoothly, but he wasn't suspicious or teasing in his words. Astrid blinked several times, as if her being there should be considered normal and nothing was weird about it. Sora looked up at her, tilting his head to the right with a curious look in his eyes. Astrid ignored his staring and looked back toward the house at the top of the hill, letting her actions speak for her. Sora followed her gaze, seeming to realize what she meant easily enough. "He's fine. Took him a little bit to figure out what to do with me, but he passed out not too long ago." Having said this, Sora looked back to Astrid, wondering just what was up. Maybe his presence really was bothering her and she didn't trust him. Sora felt no anger toward the idea. She was just looking out for a friend. But she looked upset. Even with him sitting on the ground next to her, Astrid seemed like something was on her mind, eating her alive from the inside out. "What's wrong?" He didn't want to intrude, but Sora liked Astrid despite her earlier attitude toward him. He was patient and more than willing to help anybody in need. Sora noticed how Astrid's shoulders stiffened at the question, as if she was sure he couldn't tell something was bothering her.

In truth, she didn't. Astrid was confident that she was masking her emotions enough to stop anybody from being suspicious of her. She took a deep breath, calming herself down from her tense muscles and aching chest. Just how long had she been wondering around anyway? It felt like only a few minutes, but it could have just as easily been a few hours. The moon looked higher up than when she had first left home, but that could also be because she was standing on higher elevation now.

Caught red-handed and rooted to the spot, Astrid wasn't sure if she should answer the question or just turn and run away from this place. Or if she even could for that matter. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Sora start to move again, standing up now with a Terror on each shoulder and another on his head. The other three were yawning and getting up on unsteady feet. It would seem the dragons were tolerant of Sora's presence. The Terrors seemed to really like him anyway.

What wasn't surprising at all was just how many Terrors were taking up residence near the Haddock household. The dragons in general seemed to like Hiccup a lot more than anybody else. Astrid wasn't sure if it was because Hiccup was the first to accept them with open arms or because he slayed their previous master, making Hiccup the rightful leader of the dragons.

Boy, Astrid sure was the talkative type. Sora wasn't sure just how to act around her. Everyone he knew was somewhat willing to say something to him. Astrid's silence was uncomfortable. If she wouldn't talk, than how was Sora supposed to help her when he didn't even know what was wrong in the first place? He shifted slightly from one foot to the other, eventually opting to remain as still as possible so Astrid wouldn't think Sora didn't like being around her. Sora really didn't mind her. He just wished Astrid would talk more.

When his question went unanswered, Sora looked away from her and back toward the house at the top of the hill. He may have been oblivious, but he had seen enough to know that Astrid really cared and worried about Hiccup. But she seemed bothered by something and it clearly wasn't him at the moment. Else she would have been making the same threats she had earlier during their first meeting or, at the very least, be looking at him. But she wasn't doing any of these things.

Astrid was silent with her hands at her sides, her light blue eyes locked on the front door. Sora took it as her wanting to go inside, but barging into someone's house, especially while they were asleep, was a little rude. "Can I ask you something?" Sora hadn't realized he'd asked that out loud, but he saw Astrid blink once at the sound of another person. The blond didn't seem like one who day dreamed a lot or let her guard down very often, but Sora didn't know her very well in the first place. She kept forgetting where she was or who she was with. All that Astrid cared about at the moment was going on inside of her head. So Sora had to ask what was on her mind in the hopes that he could figure out what was wrong and help ease her troubles.

Astrid glanced over at Sora, wary of just what it was he wanted to know. She had not been given a reason to trust Sora. And after that rough meeting and less than friendly punch to his shoulder, she was honestly surprised he looked so calm standing next to her with only a few feet to spare between them. If she wanted to, she could turn to face him and tackle him without any warning. But she didn't. She merely questioned what he could possibly want to know other than why she was present. Well, hopefully it would provide a decent distraction from her guilty and unhealthy train of thought. Slowly, she nodded her head in mute answer. Somehow, Sora must have seen it because he shifted uncomfortably on the spot again and lifted one of the Terrors off the ground to hold in his arms against his chest. The dragon curled up a little and purred quietly in gratitude.

"What . . . what happened to Hiccup's . . . his foot . . . ?"

She should have known. Shortly after getting the brunette on dry land, Astrid had caught him staring at the metal and wood prosthetic. She clocked Sora hard on the shoulder, not caring who saw or asked why she did it. But Sora hadn't yelped like she had been expecting him to. He stiffened up and rubbed his sore shoulder, offering up an apologetic smile for his previous actions. He knew what he had done and wasn't angry with her for reprimanding him. The subject had been dropped at that and, as far as either of them knew, Hiccup wasn't suspicious of them. Even if he had asked, Astrid would have just said she felt like hitting him for no real reason. Sora wasn't comfortable with lying, but he felt stupid for staring. He would have done his best not to say anything and hope Astrid didn't rat him out.

It was a strange question to ask. Everyone in Berk knew how, when, and why Hiccup carried the mother of all battle scars. So there was never a need to ask or answer such a question in the first place. Even if there was, nobody would have the balls to ask Hiccup or his father what had happened. Honestly, Astrid was grateful Sora had asked her rather than catch him staring again or start to pester Hiccup about it. The blond let out a long breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been hanging onto since Sora had popped the question. As calmly as she could muster, Astrid reached up and pushed her bangs out of her eye. "Fire," was all she said in response. Sora looked over at her, innocent curiosity written across his face. He either didn't understand or wanted to know more. Probably a little of both. Astrid dropped her hand from her bangs, letting it fall limply back to her side. Her blue eyes became half lidded as she tore her gaze away from the wooden house before her to face the stars overhead. Beside her, Sora blinked several times before following her lead and watching the stars twinkle against the endless black sky.

Sora didn't have to wait long before Astrid chose to break their silence. "He defeated the queen of the dragons, but was knocked off of Toothless at the last minute." Letting that hang in the cold night air for a few moments, Astrid looked down again to look at Sora, a serious look on her previously forlorn face. "He fell into the Hellfire, but was saved from further damage thanks to Toothless." Saying it out loud made the realization seem less like a dream and more like a nightmare. Astrid had been numb during the experience, having thought Hiccup had perished in the fire and free-fall. Then to find out he was alive, only to discover he was missing a limb? That had been killer. The whole experience sky-rocketed out of control on the way back to Berk when Toothless lost his mind in a fit of protective instincts, harsh growls, and snapping jaws. Being forced into being the only one taking care of the unconscious brunette had done little to nothing to ease her mood.

The silence between the pair was long and stifling on the senses. So when Sora was the first to speak up between the two, it sounded more like a dragon was roaring at her rather than the uneasy whisper the brunette's voice was being snared by. "Oh..." That was is. Sora couldn't say or do anything more. His grip on the Terror against his chest was tightened, but the dragon was quick to remind him it was still there by giving him a quick nip to his forearm. Sora readjusted his grip, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I'm s - - "

"Don't!"

Sora was startled by the sudden verbal command. He nearly jumped out of his shorts and came dangerously close to falling down. The brunette jerked his head around to look over at Astrid, seeing her fists tightly clinched at her sides and her metal shoulder pads shaking. Sora bit his lip. He hadn't realized she would react like that. Astrid bowed her head forward before furiously shaking it several times. "Don't you dare say you're sorry! Not to me, not to Toothless, and especially not to Hiccup!" The more she talked, the louder she became. By the time she'd said Hiccup's name, Astrid had all but been yelling. Birdbrain clicked and squawked quietly behind her, swerving her head around in all directions, seeming just as startled as Sora was by her sudden rise in volume. The Terrors at his feet became alert and the one on his right shoulder hissed in protest. He felt the tips of tiny claws against the back of his scalp before the one on his head relaxed again.

A few minutes passed as Astrid slowly calmed herself down. Her breathing gradually become less erratic and Birdbrain became less spastic in her movements. She was stiff and sleep deprived, but very much alert, sore, and angry. Sora didn't have the right to say he was sorry! He hadn't done anything! He wasn't even with them at the time of the turn of events! Without warning, Astrid turned and swung wide and hard, her fist hitting square between Sora's shoulder blades. The brunette stumbled, yelping in pure surprise, dropping the Terror he was hanging onto and the one of his left shoulder fell off as well, landing on the ground limply due to it previously having been asleep. The one on his head sank its claws into his matted brown hair, the one on his other shoulder somehow hooking its claws into the back of his shirt rather than facing the same fate as its comrade. Sora's spine screamed in pain, but he wasn't going down.

Not now.

Not anytime soon.

He didn't scream at her or raise his voice. Sora looked over at Astrid, a mix of surprise, hurt, and unease written across his face. Part of him wanted to yell at her. Most people probably would have. But being as patient as he was, Sora said nothing, merely letting his expression speak for him rather than potentially waking Hiccup up to their squabbling.

Astrid, on the other hand, had been hoping for a retort. She needed as distraction right now! So much for Sora's question being one to ease her upset mood.

But nothing came. Nothing but the sounds of angry, sleepy Terrors, Birdbrain's soft tittering behind her, and her own rapid heartbeat in her ears. Eventually, Sora straightened his back up, ignoring the waves of pain coming from his spine. "I didn't mean to upset you, but I can't ask Hiccup." Astrid clenched her teeth, spreading her feet apart out of habit. She was itching for a fight and she wanted Sora to start it. That way, if they did somehow wake anybody up, she could blame Sora. "Why did you want to know!" she shot back bitterly with venom practically dripping from her words.

Sora stiffened, but didn't back away or prepare himself for a fight. At least not physically that Astrid could see. "To make sure that I didn't bring whatever caused it up on accident," he answered calmly. If he was aware that she wanted a fight, he gave no heed. Sora was not in the mood to get in a fight simply because both of them were concerned about Hiccup.

Astrid relented, but even she knew Sora wasn't going to fight back. Eventually, she forced herself to relax, albeit she was still bitter. She turned away from Sora, once again facing the large house on the hill. "Then now you know."

The silence that passed between them wasn't awkward. It was actually relaxing. Astrid took the time to calm herself down as her mind went back to its previous tortured thoughts. Sora managed to get the Terrors to stop bickering at the sudden argument and held another one against his chest. Two of them moved over toward Birdbrain, who was tolerant of them making roosts out of her back. After what seemed like fifteen minutes of silence, Astrid shook her head and reached back toward Birdbrain, tracing light circles around the dragons flared nostrils. "So... You didn't choose against fighting me because I'm a girl?"

Sora stiffened when Astrid started talking, but soon relaxed once he realized they were no longer arguing with each other. "Nah. I know plenty of girls who can kick butt." Which was true. Tifa was easily one of the strongest people he knew when it came to brute strength. Yuffie was quick a light on her feet, which was to be expected of a ninja. Mulan was a seasoned soldier and Belle, while not physically powerful, was more than willing to help out in a fight. The same went for Meg and Aerith. Heck, even Kairi had proven she knew a thing or two about swinging a sword around.

Again, the silence between the pair returned. The only sounds were Birdbrain's loud exhalations, the crickets, and the occasional call from a dragon or night owl. The two Terrors perched on the Deadly Nadder had already left in search of a new victim. The Terror that had fallen off of Sora's shoulder along with the one left on the ground had also departed, taking up roost under the front steps of the chief's house. All that left was Sora, Astrid, Birdbrain, and the two remaining Terrors, one on Sora's head and the other on his right shoulder. Astrid had taken notice just how calm Sora was in the presence of the dragons, but put off asking any questions after how harshly she had treated him. Not that she felt guilty or anything. She just didn't want to take the chance of Sora finally snapping at her. With her earlier mood hovering over her like a storm cloud, Astrid was in no mood for a fist fight.

Once again, it was Sora to break their silence. "You feeling okay?" he gently prodded. She hadn't answered his earlier question. And whatever it was obviously was too severe to leave her alone with for too long. And for once, Astrid didn't blink like she was coming out of a trance. The blond merely shook her head, keeping her eyes trained on the front door of the house the two found themselves facing. "I've been better." Well, at least she was talking to him. Sora hadn't been expecting an answer at all judging by his past two attempts.

Astrid took a few steps forward, seeming determined to approach the house. But she stopped short once she had closed at least half of the gap between where she'd left Sora and the front door. Slowly, deliberately, Astrid turned her back to the house and sat down with her legs crossed on the grass. She leaned back on her hands, her gaze going toward the night sky and the secrets it held within its dark grasp. For a moment, she felt alone. She'd almost forgotten the feeling between worrying herself sick about Hiccup and trying her best to help the people of Berk to learn to get along with the dragons. The familiar feeling seemed alien to her now. About as alien as Sora actually.

Speaking of which... Astrid brought her gaze down, taking notice of her current company. Birdbrain had strayed away from the beaten path much like her blond rider had and taken up a spot behind the girl. Somehow, Astrid found herself leaning back against the massive blue beast. Her back was to the Nadder's stomach. It was comforting somehow. The next thing Astrid noticed was they weren't the only two sitting back and watching the stars. Sora was standing a few feet away, one green Terror on his head and the other red one standing between his feet. All three of them were looking to the sky. Astrid didn't know about stars representing other worlds, so there was no way for her to know that Sora was star gazing, somehow hoping to spot Destiny Islands amongst the clusters of bright yellows and whites against the dark background.

For once, Astrid chose to be the one to break the silence.

"What's your home like?"

Sora barely suppressed a jerk in surprise. It would seem the tables had turned. Sora had been the one asking questions and Astrid had been the one lost in thought. The brunette looked back at Astrid, the remnants of a sad smile on his face before he shook his head and looked skyward once more. "A lot like Berk. Destiny Islands is a lot warmer though. It rarely ever gets below 70 degrees." Astrid couldn't fathom living in such a hot environment. Then again, Sora wasn't used to the cold by the sounds of things. It was oddly humid tonight now that she thought about it. She wasn't given long to contemplate this before Sora started talking again. "We don't have dragons and it's not surrounded by towers of rocks. School's a pain, but I've always got Riku and Kairi to save me from death by boredom." No dragons? Before the incident at the dragon's nest, such a thought would've been heavenly bliss. Whoever or whatever school was, Astrid hoped it was something she could hit with her axe if she was ever to face it. She didn't know who Riku and Kairi were, but the way Sora said their names made her think they meant a lot to him.

"Why are you looking at the sky?"

Now that was a harder one to answer. Sora said nothing for a while, thinking of an answer that made sense without him breaking the unwritten rules of other worldly travel. Eventually, he settled with a small shrug as the red Terror at his feet took flight back toward the house. "Dunno. But everywhere I've ever been, the sky always looks the same to me. I guess it's just a familiar sight now." Astrid was confused by his answer, but it made sense. If Sora really traveled as much as he said he did, having the open sky over his head look the same no matter where he was had to be a comforting thought. Her gaze returned to the sky, but it didn't last for very long. It would seem Sora liked silence about as much as Astrid like pouring her emotions out for others to see.

"What's bothering you?"

"What do you mean?" she countered with far less venom than before.

"You seem like something's weighing heavily on your mind."

Just like that. Astrid was starting to wonder if it was a guy thing to be able to peg her so suddenly and without any hint of a warning. Hiccup had proven to be a master of the art, but he knew when to back off and wait for her to talk. Sora either didn't know when to quit or was being persistent on purpose. Whether out of sheer curiosity or pure concern was beyond Astrid's understanding since she knew so little about the foreign brunette. Sighing heavily, Astrid leaned further back against her Deadly Nadder, her head tilted back to face the clear night sky. Sora said nothing, having expected her to either say something in retort or ignore him entirely. It looked like it was going to be another round of the latter. Thinking that was the end of it, Sora looked away again and felt the Terror on his head adjust its position.

The silence lasted for far longer than any of the previous ones. Long enough for Sora to think he wasn't going to get an answer but still short enough for him to doubt she had fallen asleep. His azure gaze had long since left her alone, instead choosing to venture toward the night sky again and the green snout he could see peeking over the top of his head. The Terror's tail hung loosely around his neck and a content chatter of light chirps was the only noise Sora heard for the longest time. But that was okay. He was too mesmerized by the beauty of the sky to feel the need for sleep or answer his earlier call of nature.

Astrid, on the other hand, was contemplating whether she should vent to Sora and get it over with. Her chest and shoulders felt heavy by an unseen force. Normally, Astrid would channel all of these negative emotions into her axe and beat the snot out of a few trees or practice her aim in the dragon training arena. But neither of these things did anything to help lighten the weight she felt now. It seemed to only get worse as her attempts to escape it became more and more futile and desperate. But who could she vent to? Ruffnut was the only girl in Berk her age, but she doubted she could hold a serious conversation with her, especially with her twin brother around. Fishlegs was a bumbling moron and Snotlout would turn it around and hit on her. On top of that, if Snotlout learned that she was upset because of Hiccup, he might try and twist it around to have an excuse to deck his scrawny cousin. There was the option of Hiccup, but if he was the source of her problems, then why in Valhalla would she vent to him? It would only add to her guilt. Granted, Astrid did not, nor would she ever, blame Hiccup for these feelings. They were her own doing after all. And if he knew, he might become upset and do something stupid. Maybe one day she could find the courage to tell Hiccup of her problems from the beginning. But for now, she would keep them heavily guarded and away from him.

So then, who could she tell? If she held onto this for much longer, Astrid might explode and take it out on somebody who didn't deserve it. Like Sora. And while she didn't like the guy that much, he had yet to give her a reason to distrust him. She could vent to him and not have to worry about him telling since Sora probably didn't know about her ability to show mercy. And he was either generally curious or just wanted to get to know her better. The second option disgusted her somehow, but the first one sounded more logical. If he wanted to know about Hiccup's foot to avoid upsetting him, maybe he did genuinely give a crap about her troubled train of thought? Or maybe he had similar feelings and knew of a way to lighten the burden?

"Why do you care so much?" Astrid asked without warning and looked over to Sora for the first time in over half a hour. The chilly night air blew a gust in her face, making her wonder if he'd heard or not. Sora hadn't moved an inch the entire time, making Astrid wonder if it was possible to sleep while standing up. But Sora visibly flinched and shivered all over. If he was so cold, then why was he standing around outside in shorts and no sleeves!

Honestly, Sora was freezing! How Astrid was content was beyond him! Pushing his desires to head back into the house, wrap himself up in some blankets, and get some more sleep, Sora stared back at Astrid. It took him a total of ten seconds to remember the last thing he'd asked of her so long ago. The brunette reached up and gently removed the slumbering Terror from his head and hugged it toward his chest in a meager attempt to warm himself up by sharing body heat with the tiny dragon. "Because you look hurt, and I can't stand to watch other people in pain when I can do something to help," he answered honestly and fidgeted on the spot, clearly freezing in the night air even from the distance Astrid was sitting away from him.

If Astrid was stricken by Sora's concern, she said nor did anything to show it. The blond closed her eyes, putting all of weight against Birdbrain's stomach now. "You should head inside. It's cold and you're freezing." Whatever answer Sora was hoping to get out of her, that clearly wasn't it judging by the look on his face. It unnerved Astrid just how outwardly expressive Sora was and the ease at which he conveyed his emotions. Clearly, Sora was not raised to be a Viking.

"I've been through worse." Even as he said this, Sora felt a violent shiver travel up his spine. He moved closer toward her, but was warded off from getting within ten feet of her by low growls courtesy of Birdbrain. Something that let Astrid know the dragon was catching onto her mood. Eventually, Sora settled for sitting on the ground some feet away from her, but still closer than he had been before. He brought his knees up to his chest, having already placed the Terror back on his noggin and wrapped his now empty arms around his legs in a failed attempt at gaining some warmth. The Terrible Terror may have somehow grown attached to Sora, but the little guy was worth little to nothing in the heating department without using fire.

Groaning loudly, knowing Sora was going to be stubborn and not let her have a night's worth of peace, Astrid rolled her eyes. She rotated her shoulders absentmindedly, clearly trying to buy herself some time in the hopes that Sora would give into the cold and go inside. But it would seem even non-Vikings had a stubborn streak in them. Not exactly comforting news, but at least Astrid knew how to deal with the stubborn ones. Unfortunately, she was not within arm's length of Sora to bash his skull into the dirt. "You really wanna know?"

And, of course, she received her answer in the form of an eager nod.

Blowing air up into her bangs, Astrid closed her eyes again and turned her face toward the sky. "A guilty conscience does that to people." Leaving it at that, Astrid eased herself up off of the ground, using Birdbrain for support since fatigue was starting to kick in. Once on her own two feet again, Astrid turned to face Sora and crossed her arms. If Sora was hoping to ask her further, he was out of luck. Just letting that much slip was too much.

Thankfully, Sora seemed to get the message as he too got to his feet. Somehow, he just knew her guilt had something to do with Hiccup, but he wasn't going to pry. If Hiccup was involved, then it was between the two of them and Sora had no right to pester. He offered up an apologetic smile, one not much different from the one he had shown her when she caught him staring at Hiccup's foot. "I hope you find a way to overcome it, Astrid." That was it. He would no longer bring up the subject of the pained expression she held deep within the back of her eyes. Still, it was none of his business. "But if there is anything I can do to help, just say the word!"

Leaving it at that, Sora lifted the Terror from his head and set it down on the ground. If he was going back inside, he couldn't take the dragon with him. But the Terror had plans of its own. It scrambled up the side of Sora's leg and shirt, curling itself loosely around his neck and shoulders. Sora froze up at the sudden movement, unsure what to do. He looked to Astrid for answers and she just shrugged. "Seems the Terror has grown attached to ya," she stated matter-of-factly. Sora blinked several times before reaching over to gently scratching the beast's chin. Was it okay for the dragon to like him in such a way? Sora couldn't help but like the little dragon back. "Would I get in trouble if I brought it inside with me?" he asked tentatively. Astrid shrugged her shoulders again. "You'll be in less trouble than Hiccup for not asking to let you bunk with him."

Shivering but unwilling to admit it, Sora said his goodbyes before heading up the steps toward the front door, the Terrible Terror still clinging to his shoulders. Birdbrain was up and back on her feet, ready to start the trek back to Astrid's home. Sora cracked the door open, looked back to offer a small wave, before slipping back inside without uttering a sound. His earlier needs to relieve himself were long forgotten.

The interior was much warmer than the outside simply because there were walls protecting him from the cold night air. Sora once again ventured around in the dark, finding his mass of blankets near the fireplace and wiggling himself down and into his cocoon of fabrics. The Terrible Terror shot a thin stream of fire to the dying flames, bringing them back to life to fill the room with warmth and light. Soon after, Sora felt the little dragon worm his way into the covers before finally settling and curling up against the brunette's stomach, hidden from prying eyes. The last thought that crossed Sora's mind before he drifted off into sleep was hoping that he had somehow eased whatever pain Astrid was going through.

As soon as the door was closed, Astrid turned and headed back down the beaten path she'd previously tread absentmindedly, Birdbrain following closer behind her than usual. But Astrid took comfort in the dragon's presence. She headed down the wider streets of town to accommodate to the dragon's larger stature, passing by the Great Hall only to realize the jovial sounds from earlier had quieted down by a large sum. Whatever was going on, the excitement was leaving the topic at hand. Astrid shook her head and kept on going, knowing she felt a fraction more at ease. Hopefully, she'd be able to get some sleep tonight.

_**Foot Notes****: **They say that Terrible Terrors like to roost in small places. Such as under your house, inside the lower decks of Viking ships, and the occasional outhouse. I think this is what originally sparked this idea and the rest is history._

_The reference to the boat ride home being killer on Astrid was based on a previous story I had read. It's called Dream Chasers and it was written by Enchantable. If you want to read it, it's saved in my favorites._

_As for the school thing? I don't think they have school on Berk. Everything is either self-taught or through apprenticeship if you asked me.  
_


	2. To Smile

**Author's Note:**

**This was another random idea that popped into my head one late night after talking to the same friend who gave me my previous idea. This one stuck with me for a few days as I became stuck on how to finish it. My friend had become depressed one night over something her sister had said and I wanted more than anything to help her feel better. So I picked this drabble up again this morning and refused to give into it! Needless to say, I'm proud of how this came out and I sent her the original copy of the tale. I was so happy that I had been able to brighten her day. So here is my attempt at making a friend happy. I hope this brings a smile to your face as it has to me and my friend.**

"Would you quit laughing!"

"I can't . . . I can't . . . h - help it!"

"Then I'll make you stop!"

And so the cycle repeated itself. Astrid found herself tackling Sora, shoving his face into the dirt with a scowl present on her facial features. Sora was a giggling mess as he shoved against Astrid and rolled onto his side, unable to control himself. Astrid fumed and directed a kick at his shin before plopping down on the porch again, her scowl never wavering from her face. Eventually, Sora eased himself up again, his trademark smile only further getting on Astrid's nerves. The brunette eased his chuckles into a faint stream as he looked over toward the blond sitting across from him. The two stared at each other in silence for about half a minute before Sora erupted in a fit of hysterical laughter and kicking feet.

Astrid exhaled loudly, the urge to slam the kid's face into the nearest and freshest pile of dragon droppings she could find becoming stronger by the second. "What's so funny?" What little patience she'd been blessed with by Freyja was wearing dangerously thin. Most people would get up and run away from the glare Astrid was sending Sora. Yet here he was, laying on his side in the dirt, both arms around his gut and having absolutely no control over his breathing patterns and vocal cords.

When Sora's laughs didn't stop, Astrid grabbed for a dirt clog and threw it. Her aim was never off and this time was no exception. The ball of dirt and dead leaves smacked into Sora's forehead, effectively shutting him up. Sora bolted upright, looking at Astrid like she had just told him he'd been lied to his whole life and that he was actually a girl. By the time her question finally registered to him, Sora had a sheepish grin on his face. Something Astrid instantly found annoying all over again.

By the Gods, WHY had she agreed to this!

"I'm sorry. I've never been good at staring contests. I always start laughing."

Astrid blinked, her earlier scowl replaced with a confused expression as her brow scrunched together. It was true. The pair had been having a staring contest before they got down to the actual reason for their meeting. And every time Astrid's gray-blue eyes locked onto Sora's darker blue ones, his shoulders would start shaking from suppressed fits of laughter before he couldn't take it anymore and fell onto his back. While it meant Astrid was winning said staring contests, it also left her to wonder who in their right minds would let this kid become the Keyblade Master. He couldn't even hold eye contact for more than three seconds without laughing!

Ever since Sora had shown up, Astrid had been bothered by his willingness to be so open with his emotions and opinions. Hiccup, being as ever observant as he was, had picked up on Astrid's discomfort within the first hour of meeting the foreign brunette. And, being as willing to come up with new experiments as he was observant, Hiccup had proposed the idea that Astrid try and learn how to be more expressive without being violent through Sora. Sora had jumped on the idea of being able to teach somebody something. As for Astrid? She was less than thrilled by the idea of having to spend time around the weird kid. Honestly, she would have rather spent her time watching Snotlout kiss his muscles than this. Okay... Maybe she wasn't that desperate... Yet...

So this was where they found themselves. Astrid was sitting on the lowest step leading to the Hofferson residence front porch, Sora sitting on the dirt across from her. She had hoped to get this whole thing done and over with before breakfast, but Sora had slept in till well past noon. Nobody could wake him up from his deep slumber. Even a wet Willie courtesy of Ruffnut and a burp in the ear from Tuffnut hadn't gotten more than a few incoherent mumbles from the brunette. When Sora had finally crawled out of his cocoon of blankets on the floor, nobody had been at the house anymore. Well... almost nobody. The Terrible Terror that had taken a liking toward Sora had slept in along with him and was still fast asleep against his stomach, having somehow wound itself into Sora's shirt in the night.

Thankfully, in Sora's search to find a familiar face, he hadn't drawn any attention to himself outside of his hair. His alien black attire had been swapped out for a dark blue tunic and black trousers courtesy of Tuffnut since Sora had proven to actually be bigger than Hiccup when it came to height. Probably due to Sora being a little older than the chief's son. Still, Sora was built like Hiccup muscle mass and bone width wise. So Tuffnut's clothes hung loosely from the lanky teenager. Sora still had on his sneakers since nobody had a spare pair of boots they could offer up. Well, Astrid did, but she wasn't about to loan out anything to the weird-o. Not until she knew more about him and his intentions anyway. Sora's fingerless gloves and metal necklace were still present on his person as well.

Honestly? Astrid wasn't even comfortable with the idea of Sora sleeping under the same roof as Hiccup. If he really was the Keyblade Wielder, then what was stopping him from burning and pillaging Berk? Astrid had never been one for childish fantasies or believing in stories told around the fire to little children having trouble getting to sleep. She had never been one to believe that there really was a Night Fury under her bed, just waiting for her to try and slip downstairs after her parents went to bed to maul her. The tall-tales of Hideous Zipplebacks loosing one of their heads and taking those of misbehaving children to try and replace it never once gave her nightmares. The unbelievable idea that a Monstrous Nightmare got the fuel for its fires by eating the hearts of weak newborn babes had failed to send shivers down her spine. The very idea of a Gronkle falling from the sky and crushing her every time she messed up in her training was put to some serious doubt when Astrid was barely five years old. The fabricated tales of Scaldrens boiling impatient children who decided to go swimming by themselves held no fear for her. The threat of a Deadly Nadder turning her into a shish kabob using the poisonous spines along its tail for getting too fat had obviously been a lie just by looking at Fishlegs. The insanity of it all to imagine a Bone Napper getting the bones that made up its being were from disowned children was beyond absurd. All of these tales and more were told to small children to keep them in line by use of fear.

Why was it just the two of them when it was neither of their ideas you might be wondering. Well, being the master of the art of self-preservation, Hiccup had come up with the smart of idea to not be present at the moment. His latest excuse being that he needed to fix Toothless' saddle or that he was going to brave an attempt to fashioning one for Birdbrain. Whatever the excuse Astrid just knew that the next time Hiccup saw her, he had better pray to the Gods that she didn't break her promise and bust his nose.

Sora's grin was not contagious. In fact, it only seemed to further annoy Astrid. Something Sora purposely chose to ignore. "First things first. We're going to get you to smile." Sora's grin got quite a bit bigger. Big enough that Astrid was honestly waiting for the upper half of his head to fall off from his skull being split in half.

Astrid groaned and rested her chin in her palm, leaning forward with a bored expression. She scoffed at the very idea of somebody taking the time to try and get her to slip a grin or two out into the open. Sora was about as insane as Gobber if he thought she was going to make a fool out of herself and mimic that stupid grin he wore. Astrid balled up her other fist, counting down from ten in her head to try and stop herself from making Sora eat dirt for the umpteenth time today. His face and clothes bore the dirt smudges from that last violent tackle.

Sora's smile died down after a minute, realizing she wasn't going to copy him. About the only emotions he'd ever seen her show were anger, annoyance, confusion, and boredom. Sora knew there was more in there. It was just a matter of finding the right thing to get them to come out. The brunette didn't know what was considered funny on Berk, so he couldn't try and crack a joke or two in the hopes that she would understand and laugh.

Hiccup really should have hung around. He knew Astrid a lot better than Sora did.

"I still say this is a stupid idea." Astrid spoke up suddenly and with a bored tone. It was Sora's turn to look confused. One eyebrow slowly rose up into his bangs, his head tilting to the left side and his smile no longer present. Astrid watched him with mild interest, taking note of how his face would contort so easily to show varying degrees of expression. Clearly Sora did not agree with her dismissive tone. "How can expressing yourself be stupid?" He righted his head, having long picked up on the fact that Astrid found the simple gesture irritating somehow. Smart move...

Astrid took a deep breath. She felt like she was having to explain why fire was hot to the a two year old all of the sudden. "Because you're enemy could potentially read your next move. Or worse, find what you value most and take it away from you. You're enemy would love nothing more than to make you suffer in more ways than you thought possible." Saying this, Astrid blinked at Sora's latest expression. His deep azure eyes had widened by a significant degree and his mouth was hanging open from a fraction of an inch. Somehow, Astrid took pleasure in seeing him so dumbfounded. But she didn't smirk. She withheld showing such a thing to further prove her point.

Somehow, someway, Sora took this information and turned it around. He closed his mouth and relaxed his facial expression, his curiosity twinkling within his eyes. "So then, you consider me an enemy?" Sora questioned and scratched the back of his head. But before Astrid could open her mouth to say anything in her defense on the matter, Sora plowed onward. "And is that why you're so open around Hiccup? Because he's your friend and you trust him not to hurt you?" Astrid closed her mouth, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She looked away from Sora, doing her best to gain control of her flushed expression while trying to think of a decent comeback to this observation.

Sora, on the other hand, had caught onto Astrid's latest expression. A smirk etched across his boyish face. Had Astrid been looking at him, she might have felt Goosebumps. In the small time she'd known Sora, she had come to the conclusion that Sora wasn't one to scheme behind her back like Hiccup did. Granted, Hiccup can and had already proven he knew how to talk Sora into helping him with his latest hair-brained scheme. But Sora didn't strike anybody as somebody who was smart enough to plot anything beyond the next five seconds of his short life. Then again, Astrid had never seen Sora in a fight either. If he really was the wielder of the Keyblade, he had to be strong on the battlefield. Astrid found herself fighting the contemplations on how to wind Sora up enough to agree to a match against her.

Careful with the words she chose, Astrid kept her expression locked on Sora's still unnamed Terrible Terror, which was currently chasing its shadow a few feet from Sora. "Yes. Because Hiccup is my friend." She really, REALLY hoped Sora didn't catch onto her blush. Sadly, even Sora wasn't that oblivious. The brunette's smirk was joined by a sly look in his eyes. "Really? How come you don't act that way around the twins or Fishlegs then?" Even Sora knew Snotlout got on Astrid's nerves, but he didn't know it was because he constantly hit on her. He just thought Astrid didn't like Snotlout for belittling her because of her gender.

Astrid visibly flinched, but she kept her composure. Gods, why couldn't Sora just drop the subject and go back to trying to make her smile? That was easier to deal with than this! "Because the twins are annoying and Fish is just... Fish." The blond glanced at Sora out of the corner of her eye and regretted it. That knowing look on his face was disturbing. Period. Astrid looked away just as quickly as she had glanced.

Sora's smirk pulled back further, showing some of his teeth. Teeth that bothered Astrid with how straight they were. Anybody in Berk who was lucky enough to reach the age of fifteen was missing a few and what teeth they did have left were crooked or chipped. Her left front tooth was bigger than her right and, like most kids, she had a bit of an overbite. Sora, on the other hand, looked like he had never bitten into anything his entire life. Yet another reason he was a freak in Astrid's eyes.

Her answer, however, did not perturb Sora. He had latched onto something that he could use to get Astrid to show different levels of emotion outside of rage. Something he hoped he could use in the long run to get her to crack a smile. "Then how come you treat Hiccup different than the others?" Sora had seen Astrid get annoyed with the brunette. Then again, she also seemed to hover over him like a vulture every time he even gave so much as a hint of a limp from his prosthetic. Sora wasn't the type to over evaluate things, so he never thought much of it. He just took it as her just being a good friend. Even now, that was how Sora saw her relationship with Hiccup. But she acted different around Hiccup none the less.

Astrid was about as good as masking her emotions as she was changing them where the scrawny worst-Viking-in-Berk-history was concerned. She shifted a little, the only sign of her discomfort. She forced a bored expression on her face, hoping to deter Sora from the subject, and she looked back to him, doing her best not to deck him for that strange expression he wore. "Because he's my friend. I don't understand why I have to keep repeating myself." Astrid would kill for a subject change right about now. She so latched onto the first thing that popped into her head. "Why are you so willing to express yourself despite the danger it might bring to your friends?" Judging by the smirk faltering on Sora's face, Astrid had successfully deterred the brunette from digging where nobody should tread.

Or not...

"Because I want my friends to know how I feel!" Sora exclaimed passionately, bringing his hands up evenly with his chest to and flexing his fingers at the air between the two of them, as if he was trying to grasp hold of something that wasn't there. He stressed his point with more than just words and hand gestures. Sora's face and voice spoke of a more serious tone. Something that normally wouldn't come from him. Something some people would argue should never be expressed by Sora unless under the most dire of circumstances. "Isn't that why you smile at Hiccup?" he added in on a lighter note. And, just like that, his serious expression vanished, leaving a tilted head and a quirked eyebrow behind.

Somehow, Astrid stopped her cheeks from setting themselves on fire at this. She eyed Sora suspiciously. There was no way this oblivious little half-troll, alien, pain in her butt had ever seen her smile. But if there was one thing about Sora everybody who talked to him noticed, it was that Sora was honest to a fault. If you wanted the truth, you asked Sora. It was like he had never been taught how to lie before. Maybe wherever he was from, lying was unheard of. But while Sora didn't lie, he could pick up on when those around him weren't being truthful to him. Why else would she be having to defend herself against him now? Sora wasn't book smart, but in the ways of emotions, Sora was the master of picking up on them.

That knowing, creepy smile slipped across Sora's face again at Astrid's lack of an a forthcoming answer. Astrid grew annoyed all over again, but she resisted the temptation to bash Sora's skull in because she knew it would only further prove the point Sora was hinting at. The thing is, Astrid didn't know that what she thought Sora meant and what he actually meant were two different things. Sora was just trying to get her to admit that having a friend in Hiccup helped her relax and show a grin. Astrid was afraid Sora was thinking far too into their relationship and had possibly picked up on Astrid's desire to be a little more than just Hiccup's friend. Sure, she had kissed the guy in broad daylight with half of the town watching her. And yes, people had taken notice to how she hovered over him and had no tolerance for things being said against or about him that were negative in any way. But if Sora figured that much out, then maybe Astrid wasn't as good as masking her emotions as she had previously thought.

Exhaling loudly, Astrid reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What of it, Spiky?" Astrid rarely resorted to name-calling, but she was growing more and more impatient with Sora's questions dancing just out of range of the real question that she felt he was hinting toward. "_Spiky_" was a term coined by the twins upon seeing Sora. Both were convinced that was his real name and that "_Sora_" was just some made-up word that he called himself to hide his embarrassment. What both of them failed to realize was that Sora had no issues with being called "_Spiky_". It was better than Snotlout in his honest opinion. Not that he would say that out loud for fear of getting into a fight with said Viking.

Sora shrugged indifferently. While Astrid was getting annoyed by his questions, Sora was getting more and more curious. The fact that she was reverting to anger made Sora want to back off, but he'd gotten Astrid to show a non-negative emotion earlier that he couldn't quite name. Which meant he was sitting just outside of the solution to Astrid's expression problem. Leaving Sora to want to dig further despite any discomforts it might bring him in order to help Astrid.

"Well, I was just curious. You always act different around him." Sora pestered innocently.

"What do you want me to do! Ignore him?" Astrid felt her fists ball up.

"N - no! Just that I was curious as to why! Maybe it'll help you express yourself better."

" . . . . . "

Astrid bit her lower lip. She was getting really tired of these weird conversations that seemed to come to life when she was left alone with Sora. After this, Astrid made a mental note to be never be around the brunette without anybody else present. There wasn't much else to say on the matter, but it didn't look like Sora was going to be dissuaded anytime soon into changing the subject into something less... awkward.

If Sora was put off by her lack of a response, he didn't show it. The two were left at a stand-still, neither wanting to say anything but wanting to kill the silence at the same time. A question popped into Sora's mind. While it wasn't a subject changer, it would hopefully get the mood to lighten up. "Why do you consider Hiccup your friend?" Sora spoke with honest curiosity. They say curiosity killed the cat. And, well, Sora had been turned into a lion cub before.

Astrid blinked, clearly being thrown out of her stupor. She shot Sora a confused expression, silently asking him where such a question came from. Well, since Sora wasn't venturing past the idea of her being friends with Hiccup, then she figured she could handle this and entertain Sora's oblivious curiosity. Astrid opened her mouth to answer, but stopped herself from making any sound. Honestly, she had never thought about it before. The blond had never been asked to explain herself or her actions in such a way. Most either just knew or didn't have the nerves required to ask her such a question in the first place. It made avoiding these kinds of situations so much easier. Astrid clamped her mouth shut at her loss for words.

Hiccup was brave to the point of suicidal stupidity. This was proven on a near daily basis around Astrid since he seemed to either enjoy winding her up in a fit of rage or was blissfully unaware of how close he got sometimes to loosing his ability to reproduce. Tell Hiccup _NOT_ do to something, and it was only a matter of time before you caught him doing what you warned him against, having long convinced himself that whoever told him not to do it was wrong. He had a one track mind in the sense that once he got an idea in his head, no amount of physical abuse or attempts at talking some sense into him would deter him. Hiccup had a strange sense of humor and was quick-witted, but not in an arrogant way. Granted, Astrid used to view people who would rather use tact over an axe as weaklings. She doubted Hiccup would (or even could) heft an axe over his shoulder and charge into a battle seeking honor and glory. Raising a sword in anger didn't suit him either. And forget dropping a war hammer on the heads of his foes. Hiccup would be more likely to drop it on his own foot that was still there. Astrid knew he was a little clumsy, made even more obvious thanks to his prosthetic by the way he flailed his arms just trying to maintain his balance. If Astrid started walking slower than usual just so he could keep up with her, he became frustrated. He could try and hide it, but it was still pretty obvious. And despite this set-back, Hiccup still refused to withhold a snarky remark at the risk of being decked between the eyes. He tended to make sarcastic jokes about everyone and everything. He was scrawny, short, and weak for his age and was horrible with any traditional weapon placed in his hands. Not to mention how much he could and would complain and whine if you did something to him he didn't approve of. Like taking him by surprise and giving him a noogie. Hiccup didn't enjoy being reminded just how powerless he really was either.

So then... What was there to like?

While he was braver than most in the worst situations, Hiccup wasn't selfish. Astrid couldn't recall a time where he was pretending to withhold his fears. Any time he ever did attempt something, it was rarely ever for himself. For so long, he'd merely done the stupid things he had because he was seeking approval from his father. Everything else had either been for Toothless or someone other than himself. Hiccup had risked everything just to make sure nobody else found out about the Night Fury he'd befriended. He was willing to face Stoick at his angriest to try and protect the dragon from Berk's wrath. Despite being disowned and down on his luck, he was still able to pick himself up again and save the very people who had mistreated him for so long. Hiccup was also one of the only people who didn't hit on her or attempt to impress her. Granted, he got flustered easily and repeated himself when startled. But he treated her like a person and not some trophy to be won. Hiccup got on her nerves, and while she wanted to hit him more often than not, he was the last person she would wish anything bad on. While he was a bit of a klutz, when things got serious, he would buckle down and drop the sarcastic comments in favor of thinking of a solution to the problem. As far as she knew, he didn't think ill of anyone. It was rare for him to swear or curse at something that wasn't his own fault. He wouldn't begrudge anyone because of their short comings and treated everyone on about the same level. The big exceptions being Stoick and Toothless as far as Astrid could tell.

Without even realizing it, Astrid had the beginnings of a smile on her face.

He was loyal beyond words to the people who just gave him a chance. Hiccup didn't look down on anybody any more than he did himself. He was his own worst critic. He'd sooner find something he did wrong than point out where someone else screwed up. And, in some weird and twisted way, Astrid found him adorable despite him being the definition of an annoying little dork. The way he tilted his head when he was curious was annoying at first, but it somehow grew on her. His crooked, nervous grins twisted her insides in a strange and not quite unpleasant knot. His more confident smiles were somehow contagious. Even his little tantrums were cute in their own right. Thinking about it, Astrid couldn't suppress a light chuckle from escaping her. Hiccup was nervous when he was within her presence despite her desire for him to just relax and be himself around her. Astrid hated how he had such little confidence in himself sometimes, but she was grateful he wasn't cocky or arrogant like Snotlout or Tuffnut.

A fit of snickers drew Astrid from her train of thoughts, blinking her eyes to focus on the reality set before her. Sora once again had a smile on his face, but it wasn't taunting. It seemed to be withholding some sort of inner knowledge that wasn't fitting for somebody like Sora to know and understand. For once, it didn't grate on Astrid's nerves. She stared back at him, not realizing the faint grin that was present on her face. "What's so funny?" she questioned and realized her mouth felt strange. It was then the blond Viking realized what she had been doing and quickly tried to shove the stupid expression to the side. But it would seem that by being a Viking, even her body was going to stubborn and against her inner wishes at some points in her life. It really didn't help that her cheeks felt warmer than usual.

Sora's smile widened a little, nearly causing Astrid's eye to twitch. She held it together only because she wanted to know his answer. "Nothing. Just wondering why it took you so long to realize it's okay to smile." To emphasize his point, Sora pointed toward Astrid, indicating the expression on her face.

Instantly, Astrid groaned and put her head down, holding her head up by pressing her palms against her forehead. Was it really okay to smile outside of the confident smirk or a victorious grin? No, surely not. But what had caused her grin despite her desires to not show such a gesture? At the time it had happened, she had been lost in thought. Lost in thought thinking about Hiccup and why she considered him a friend. Realizing this, Astrid groaned once again, longer and louder than the first. For the love of Thor, what had Hiccup done to her? The scrawny little half-troll was able to screw her up even when he wasn't around! And nobody messed around with Astrid Hofferson! Nobody who knew her even in passing and didn't want to loose a few fingers or an eye. But this guy just walked into her life, creating all sorts of new and unwanted emotions, and got her to bend over backwards in worry without even saying a word!

"It's official... The Gods hate me..." she muttered in a pitiful tone that was unbecoming of her.

Sora blinked, unsure as to why Astrid would say such a thing. He got up off of the ground and absentmindedly patting down his borrowed trousers and rear to get rid of excess patches of dirt that clung to his legs. Sora approached Astrid, bending down at the waist and balancing his upper body up by pressing his palms down on top of his knobby knees. "I don't get it." He was still hovering above her even from that vantage point, so Sora squatted down and crossed his arms, resting them across his knees while he maintained his balance. "What's so wrong about smiling? Is there a rule against it or something?"

Astrid groaned once again and lifted her gaze, seeming unfazed by how close Sora had moved toward her. She rested her chin in her palms, regarding Sora with a strange expression. There was no rule against it per say. It was just something that was frowned upon in Viking society. Something she doubted Sora could come to understand. "Everyone here can smile, Sora." she answered as if she, once again, talking to a two year old. And it was true too. Everyone smiled around Berk. It was just either after a victory, a crude joke, a violent display of brotherly affection towards one's battle buddies, or something equally as Viking-like. "Just nobody around here smiles because of Hiccup. Nobody sane anyway." Astrid really didn't care if Sora caught on or not. She was positive Sora already knew her not-so-well-kept-secret anyway.

Sora blinked, finally seeming to catch onto what was going on. "Oh... Oh! So..." Sora trailed off, unsure of just how to continue this without prodding Astrid or antagonizing her into screaming and storming off. "So you like Hiccup in... _that_ way huh?" Sora said in a way that clearly implied that he was only just now picking up the relationship status.

Astrid's expression went from blank to surprised in near record time. So Sora hadn't caught onto her until just now? Was he really that slow or was he just toying with her? Astrid shrugged and gave a slow nod of her head, making sure to get her point across now so it wasn't brought up later where Hiccup would hear. "Bingo. I think you might be one of only a few who didn't know that." Which was true. Astrid had made it clear she had laid claim to the brunette when she kissed him in broad daylight shortly after he had come back around. Granted, Snotlout probably still didn't know and the twins were still blissfully unaware as far as she was concerned. As for Fishlegs, there was no telling. But Hiccup knew and that was all that really mattered in the end.

"So... does Hiccup know?" Sora asked tentatively.

"I should hope so. If not, he's more oblivious than you," Astrid responded with conviction.

"Well," Sora started as he finally lost his balance and fell onto his rear, "then what is there to be ashamed about?"

Astrid sighed loudly, almost in an annoyed manner. "How can I explain this without confusing you more..." Astrid closed her eyes, exhaling loudly through her nose, before looking at Sora again, forcing him to look right back at her. "Because Hiccup is the worst Viking in Berk history." Before Sora could open his mouth and attempt to contradict her, Astrid held up one of her hands to silence him. "The guy can't lift an axe, he can't follow orders, he couldn't even do the most basic of tasks right when somebody tells him to stay out of the way." Astrid dropped her other hand, choosing to hold her head on its own now. "He can hardly defend himself outside of sarcastic remarks or running with his tail between his legs." Sora opened his mouth to try and retort against this, but was cut short once again by a serious glare from Astrid. "But," she said with all the seriousness her glare implied, "Hiccup is not a bad person. He's crazy and full of stupid ideas, but he's loyal to a fault and... and..." Astrid sighed and shook her head. "I wouldn't have him any other way." Astrid's shoulders sagged at this realization. Here she was getting herself wound up and saying things better left kept to herself to somebody who shouldn't even exist outside of a fairytale. "Nothing wrong with that."

A smile danced across Sora's face. His expression told a thousand stories, none of which Astrid had the ability to interpret.

Whatever Sora was about to say next was cut off when they both heard a hiss coming from behind Sora. The brunette slowly turned around, Astrid getting up to her feet to look over his head. The Terrible Terror had its back to them, looking to something in the sky. Both kids looked upward, seeing a mass of blue and yellow coming down and landing with the grace of an elephant on roller skates barely ten feet to their right. Sora yelped in pure surprise, falling onto his back and startling the Terror into climbing onto his gut, hissing and fanning out its wings as if trying to protect its new favorite sleeping spot. Astrid jumped back, but was more confused than scared by Birdbrain's sudden appearance and awkward landing.

Until she got a closer look at the dragon.

There were leather straps hanging off of the dragon's torso. One had a buckle that clearly was meant to attach across the dragon's chest with another strap to secure it into place. There was a similar pair, covered in a bit more padding going around the base of the dragon's long and spiked tail. A long and wide patch of leather was across the dragon's back, sitting lopsided between the dragon's wings, having been hindering Birdbrain's use of her left wing. The only thing really holding it in place was the loop around the Nadder's tail and the fact that the leather padding had gotten hooked on one of her upright neck spikes. The dragon was clearly agitated by the clicking sounds she was making. The Nadder huffed loudly when Astrid approached her, even bending down to make it even more clear what Birdbrain wanted. Astrid grabbed hold of the leather and gave it a few yanks before it came loose from the spike that had somehow punctured through it. Instantly, the dragon started to relax, the spikes on her tail going flat against her scales. Astrid moved down and fiddled with the buckle around its base, eventually pulling it loose and letting it hang. Birdbrain took the cue and shook herself, knocking the harness off and onto the ground.

Standing over it, Astrid sighed loudly and bent down to lift the leather up off of the ground. Sora had finally recovered and approached her, looking the mess of leather and buckles over with a confused expression. Sighing, Astrid hoisted the harness under her arm and turned on the spot, knowing exactly where she was needed. Sora watched her, looked to Birdbrain, then back in the direction Astrid had left in. Birdbrain grunted before walking after her blond rider, for once not agitated by Sora's presence.

Blinking out of his confusion, Sora took off after Astrid, passing up Birdbrain fairly easily. "What's going on?" Sora questioned just in time to feel the Terrible Terror land on his head just in time for him to slow down at Astrid's side. Astrid adjusted her grip on the makeshift harness, her gaze locked ahead of her. "Looks like Hiccup tried to make a saddle for Birdbrain. And succeeded in ticking her off." Sora paused for a split second before jogging to catch up with her again. Their earlier conversation came to mind, but the brunette kept that to himself. He'd never been to the blacksmith forge before, so he's just have to trust Astrid to lead the way.

A light snicker came forth after Sora chanced a glance back at Birdbrain before looking to the blond Viking next to him. "You weren't kidding when you said Hiccup was crazy."

Astrid rolled her eyes, but was unable to stop a faint smile was gracing her face. "If only you knew, Sora. If only you knew."


	3. Attempted Prologue

**Author's Note:  
**_This idea was started thanks to Inspirational. I'm merely taking a whack at the idea that she gave me. If this seems to be popular enough, I might continue with it and make a whole story using it. If not, I'll just stick with random one-shots I suppose._

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing. Just writing down ideas for all to see._

_

* * *

_

Blizzards. There is such thing as too much snow. Any ice thicker than a few feet was a royal pain to even the strongest axe thrower. Ice cycles as long as a man was tall were a common sight to be seen hanging from trees and roof shingles. It was also fairly common for them to fall down and puncture something or someone since their people were known to be so loud. Many a Viking has suffered a slice to the arm, shoulder, or back from these frozen spikes.

Most of them anyway...

One such Viking, easily one of, if not _THE_ biggest of his people, was begrudgedly trudging around through the unrelenting downpour of snow. Stoick the Vast, who easily lived up to his name easily just by size alone, was weighed down by several layers of fur, wool, metal, and leather. When it wasn't falling from the sky, the white substance was soft, but when it was falling so fast and hard it was near impossible to see where one was going, snow loses its charm and becomes a serious nuisance.

Why was he wondering around in the snow? Judging by the steady stream of oaths flying out from his cracked lips, it was far from his idea. Why, for the love of Thor, _WHY_ did the Elder need him now of all times! Trailing behind the burly man was a smaller, older woman; the Elder's assistant and caretaker. She trudged through the snow in his path, using the large man as a defense against the wind and the path he cut through the snow made traveling all the more easier for her.

If he didn't know Berk like the back of his hand, Stoick was sure he would have gotten lost by now. But, thankfully, he could have walked around the village blind and still get to wherever it was that he was needed. Good thing too. The snow was making it impossible for anyone to see more than two feet in front of them with the blanket of white and unrelenting wind. The ice clinging to the stone and concrete paths made the trip all the more impossible. Not a soul was out and about outside of the two of them.

…Lucky them…

It took far longer than usual, but the pair made it to the hut further away from the town than the bulk ot the huts. The reason for such a distance was to try and spar the Elder during the dragon raids of the past. It usually worked too. There were no livestock near the house, so there was no need for the dragons to even come close to the building. Once Stoick reached the door, he stepped aside and pushed it open with one arm, allowing the Elder's assistant to enter the house first before he followed suit, all but slamming the door behind him to shut out the cold.

There was a lively fire near the center of the main room, likely a common sight amongst all of the other occupied houses of Berk. The Elder's assistant immediately went to tending the fire, barely remembering to drop her outer furs caked in ice and snow before bringing a pot to hang over the fire. Stoick watched the mild interest, his attention going toward the small bundle huddled up near the fire.

The Elder was wrapped up in a thick bear skin. Clearly, in life, that grizzly had at least six and a half feet tall, making it taller than Stoick himself by a fair margin. It was a bit comical to see the Elder, barely as tall as the average youth's waist, wrapped up in such a large hide. Not that this was the reason for his visit or anything. The elderly woman looked toward the current Viking chief, placing the butt of her staff against the wood floor and easing herself up out of her stool. Her hand clutching the staff was covered by the arm of the bear skin, a thin leather strap around her wrist to hold the paw against the back of her withered and boney hands. The head of the once mighty beast was resting atop her head, the lower jaw removed so that the upper teeth hung down over his line of vision. It looked as if the grizzly was going to eat her in one bite and not the skinned hide of a fearsome bear.

Stoick instantly straightened his spine and pushed his shoulders back, ignoring the howl of the chilly winter wind against the door directly behind him. Ice hung from his furs, snow buried within his massive beard, and snot dribbled down from his red nose. The Elder gestured for him to come closer to the fire and join her and, without ever uttering a word, sat back down again to face the dancing flames once more. Stoick waited a moment before coming towards the flames, instantly relishing in the warmth but did nothing to show it. Vikings were supposed to be hard and unaffected by the things around them they disliked. He eased himself down onto his knees before the steady flames, watching them dance absentmindedly.

The pair sat in silence, the only sounds between them being the crackling of the fires and the assistant tending to the stew being cooked over the flames in an iron pot. Stoick was always an impatient fellow, but even he knew better than to cross the Elder. She wasn't a threat physically, but she was much wiser than him through years of experience and anything she said was listened to with rapt attention by anyone and everyone who called Berk home. Even some of the dragons had taken to listening to her when she spoke.

Ah... the dragons... Such a hardy bunch. Hard to believe that less than two months ago 300 years worth of fighting had been rendered pointless and useless by one odd-ball pair. But that is a story we all well and know. In fact, the pair in question was huddled up near a fire, one wrapped around the other to fight against the cold his frailer body stubbornly fought against. It had taken countless nights and far too many close calls to bother counting before Stoick had gotten used to seeing the black beast within his household. But he owed the dragon. The Night Fury had seen past the screw-ups and small stature of his son to see what really mattered underneath. Despite the mistreatment they had all placed upon the beast, it had still helped to save them and protect his rider. And for that, Stoick owed the beast more than he felt comfortable with.

But that was not the topic for discussion. At least, Stoick sincerely hoped the Elder didn't send her assistant out into the cold to fetch him to talk about his son and his ebony companion.

The silence was broken when the Elder's assistant offered Stoick a bowl of piping got stew. The man accepted the offering, but stopping himself from digging in when the Elder finally decided it was time to speak up.

"I fear for our future here, Stoick."

The sentence was barely an octave above a whisper and her voice was cracked from lack of use, causing Stoick to have to strain his ears to hear her speak. The Elder was one of very few who could get away with addressing him by his first name without some sort of title tacked onto it. The larger man didn't like what he heard in the least either. He placed his bowl down and turned himself fully to face the Elder to his right. He spoke not a word, encouraging her to continue with his facial expression alone.

The Elder wasn't even looking at him. She continued to eye the first, ignoring the bowl she held on her lap with one hand while the other continued to clutch her oaken staff. A minute passed in silence before the elderly woman chose to speak up again, ignoring the rapt attention with which Stoick was watching her with. She was used to being the center of attention when she spoke after all.

"The Gods have sent me a vision. A vision of a possible future for Berk."

Stoick could no longer keep quiet. If this threat was so big, he must know everything he can about it to make preparations to stopping it. "What have they sent to you, Elder?"

"Visions of beasts as black as the night sky with eyes as yellow and round as gems."

"Black beasts...?"

"Yes... They called them... the Heartless."

Stoick stared at the smaller, frailer woman as if she'd grown a second head. Heartless? What the devil was she speaking of? And apparently his question was easily written across his face, for the Elder slowly turned to look at him now and gave a small nod of her round head.

"Aye. The very same from the tales of old."

And that was when it hit Stoick. Little was known about the Heartless. In fact, less was known about them than what had previously been their limited knowledge about the Night Fury. At least they knew the Night Fury was a dragon and could easily kill a man. Heartless had never been proven to exist out of old wise-tales and a child's occasional nightmare. Hardly any proof there.

But that was just scratching the surface of the stories of old. A little known tale, rarely told in the last 125 years, was that of a weapon cast of an unknown metal and infused with magic the world had never seen before or since. A sword wielded by someone of unknown intent. Conflicting versions of the tale told very contrasting stories. One told of a hero who sought to bring peace to the world, while another said the weapon's bearer had far darker intentions and sought the destruction of all known life. The two tales contrasted in so many ways that it was unanimously decided to be a drunkard's tale and almost everything known about it was forgotten ages ago.

Stoick blinked out of his stupor and looked toward the Elder once again. She had long since returned to watching the flames and enjoying her stew, having known Stoick was lost his thoughts and respected that enough to ponder in silence.

"What does this mean?" Stoick finally spoke up, doing his best to keep his voice calm and even.

The Elder paused for a moment, clearly trying to think of an answer. "Tell me Stoick... Which version of the tale do you believe?"

He was a bit perplexed by the question, but his answer was honest none the less. "Neither. I've always believed it to be nothing more than a story."

"And what do you think now?"

Stoick knew better than to question the Elder. But he also didn't believe the story was any serious threat despite what the Elder said of a warning from the Gods. "I... I do not know..."

It takes a lot for a man to admit when he is at a loss for answers, especially when that man was a Viking. But after having 300 years worth of fighting add up to nothing when compared to son, Stoick was trying to be a more cautious in his decisions involving the unknown.

There was yet another part of the two tales that he did know about. Two parts that were never spoken about amongst the common folk for fear of someone taking the tales too seriously and going mad with worry and anticipation. One part of the unspoken tale was that wherever the bearer of the Keyblade, the fabled sword, was located, the monsters of the dark would not be far behind. That if the sword should ever show up in the hands of a Viking, then it would be best to get rid of the person for the sake of the village and all its inhabitants. And the other part of the hidden story was that whoever wields the sword should never be underestimated, for they will have powers beyond the Viking imagination. Neither detail was to Stoick's liking in the least.

"What do you think, Elder?"

"I believe the sword will show up here very soon."

Stoick nearly froze at the news. He was afraid of that. The Elder might even know about the tales than he himself did. If the sword did show up within Berk, what were they to do to counter the situation and stop the appearance of the black beasts of night? Having no answer for his own question, Stoick forced himself to speak out and hope for an answer from the Elder.

"Elder, what do you propose we do?"

"When the sword appears, I'm afraid we'll have to get rid of it. That should stop the beasts from appearing."

It made sense, but how were they to know who wielded the blade? Would it just appear out of the sky one day or did somebody in Berk already have it? And, if somebody did have it, would he be able to tell? What if it was just a child? Could he bring himself to send a child out to sea on its own in order to save the rest of the village? By Thor, what if he had the sword and didn't even know it!

"Fear not, Stoick the Vast. For the blade is not within our ranks as of yet."

"How can you be so sure, Elder?"

"The Gods have told me so."

Well, there was no point in trying to argue against the Gods now was there? Stoick gave a small nod of his head before looking away to the fires, which had been holding the Elder's attention for quite some time. Something about it seemed off to him though. The larger man leaned forward, close enough that a tip of his beard caught fire for a brief moment on accident before it went out on its own.

It was then he finally heard the first tiny gurgling yawn. Stoick blinked several times, looking between what he was seeing and the Elder and back before trying to wrap his mind around what was lying before him. With a faint hiss, something within the middle of the fire came to life and stretched out. The creature crawled out of reach of the flames, coming to curl itself around the Elder's feet quietly. The tiny, scarlet beast was that of a baby Monstrous Nightmare. Stoick had never seen one so young before; it was barely the size of a fully grown Terrible Terror. To see one so young and so at home was astounding.

The Elder let out a wry chuckle before reaching down and gently massaging the beast between its growing head horns. "Strange little thing. I keep trying to make it leave yet it always comes back the next day." The assistant rose to offer her help when the Nightmare rose up and place its head on the Elder's lap, but the Elder quickly waved her off. "It's all right dear. These old bones could use a good heated massage," she said quietly while she continued to let her fingers dance across the scales, causing the young dragon to purr with content.

The room remained in silence for several minutes. The only sounds being heard were the pleased grumbles of the Nightmare, the crackling of the fire, and the sound of wooden spoons against stone bowls. Never a patient man, Stoick eventually opted to get himself up off of the floor, having already finished the stew he'd been given. When the man began to move, the Nightmare ceased its sounds, as if it had just noticed the man's presence. The dragon gave several rapid clicks before retreating back into the fire.

"Thank you, Elder. I shall see to it that this threat does not come to pass." Stoick spoke in his usual tone of authority before adjusting his furs on his shoulders to prepare for the long walk home.

The Elder gave a slight nod of her head. "I wanted to wait until this storm passed to tell you to, but I felt that if I gave you more warning you would be better prepared."

Stoick said nothing at first as he brushed his hand through his beard absentmindedly. "You are to kind, Elder. This weather is but a spring breeze to me."

Of course he was joking around, but Vikings must be tough no matter what nature through at them. This stubborn view was probably the leading reason they hadn't moved in 300 years despite the crazy winters and abnormally short spring and summer. At least, Stoick was told it was abnormal by the other tribes they traded with. He'd grown up on the isle of Berk, just like his father, and his father, and so on and so forth.

Stoick was preparing himself for his departure when the Elder spoke up suddenly. "A quick warning before you depart, Stoick." Hearing this, the larger man became stock still and listened with rapt attention. "The error of youth is to believe that intelligence is a substitute for experience, while the error of age is to believe experience is a substitute for intelligence." Having said this, the Elder took a bite out of her stew and returned to her usual silence.

Not knowing just what the Elder meant and knowing he wasn't going to get an explanation no matter how much he pestered the frail woman for one, Stoick gave a curt nod of his head before turning to face the door. Stealing a quick breath and reveling in the heat a second longer, he pulled the thick oaken door open and quickly stepped outside, nearly slamming it shut behind him to prevent the heat was escaping and being snuffed out by the icy wind.

The snow was still falling in heavy torrents, but it seemed to have a lightened a fair bit. Great news since that also lowered the chances of hail falling. Stoick stiffened his shoulders and started the trip back home, ignoring the nail biting cold and the lack of vision as best as he could. Stoick was barely a fourth of the way home and the blanket of snow coming down acted as a sound barrier, making it impossible for anyone to hear anything that didn't come from their own mouths. Which made it pretty fair to say he missed out on the cry from the town's only Night Fury, which during clear weather would have pierced through the entire village and then some.

It wasn't even noon yet and Stoick had no clue that his day was just getting started.

* * *

**Quick Note:**_  
The warning from the Elder is a quote I found. I have no idea where the quote is from though since its source was not listed._


	4. Curiosity

**Author's Notes:  
**• Copyrights to _How To Train Your Dragon_ belong to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell.  
• Sora / _Kingdom Hearts_ is copyrighted Testya Nomura and the team at Square Enix.  
• The only thing that could possibly count as my own original idea would be the Terrible Terror's name.  
• I realize these are all scattered and out of order. But that's the point in one-shots. These are just random ideas that pop into my head that I write down involving the idea of Sora ever ending up on Berk.  
• For those of you who are wanting me to write an actual story from these: I'm not sure if I want to do that. For those of you who have noticed, I haven't written anything using Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III directly. My reason? I'm afraid too. I'm unsure I could give his character the justice it deserves as I've never used him before for anything. The reason for that being that I have a buddy of mine that I Role-Play with on another website that plays Hiccup. And, as I've confided in her, I'm extremely uncomfortable with the idea of playing a character I've long since started to associate with someone else.

* * *

It was just another chilly night in Berk. Nothing special. Nothing new. Nothing worth serious thought. It wasn't unheard of for the forge to alive with fire either. To have it happen to late at night wasn't a common occurrence, but it was, like the bitter wind outside, nothing worth serious thought. What was an unheard of predicament was being hard at work, sweating away the pounds by the roaring fires, and seeing a Terrible Terror skitter across the floor, poking its head in every nook and cranny it could fit its nose into.

And where there is one Terrible Terror, there are bound to be at least twenty more.

"Oh no. I'll not have an infestation in _MY_ forge!"

One quick hand change from a hammer to an axe later and Gobber the Belch found himself standing just outside of the back room of the forge. The very same room that was a pain for him to squeeze into and had been altered a bit to house his apprentice amongst the storage supplies. The Terrible Terror from before ran in between his foot and peg-leg, seeming to ignore the much larger Viking all together. Gobber couldn't resist himself and poked his head in, watching to see where the little dragon hid. While he was against going in and poking around his apprentice's privacy, having a colony of Terrors living in there was not going to be tolerated. And he wouldn't put it past Hiccup to have "adopted" a colony or two of Terrible Terrors. The brunette seemed to favor the company of dragons over people anyway.

The little green Terror weaved in between two large, empty wicker baskets, chirping the entire time as if it was calling for someone. Gobber held his breath and strained his ears, trying to pick up on any other sounds. He heard what sounded like whispering, but he couldn't make out what was being said. And, as far as he knew, dragons didn't whisper.

"Boy, if ya think I can't hear ya, you're strongly mistaken."

There was a violent jerking motion and what sounded like something banging against one of the wooden shelves hanging off of the wall. The poor lighting in the room was soon fixed by Gobber, who left the doorway for a split second to fetch a lit wax candle. He forced his way in through the doorway, grateful for being smaller than Stoick, and used his candle to light the ones already located inside. What he saw was not what he was expecting to say the least.

Gobber had known there was somebody inside, but had jumped to conclusions and assumed it was his lanky apprentice attempting to house more dragons. Looking back on it, it was a stupid mistake. If Hiccup had been in there, Gobber would have heard him enter. And, if for whatever reason he was too engrossed in his work to notice him that Night Fury of his would be sitting just outside one of the windows or the main entrance like an overgrown ebony guard dog.

While he had been wrong about it being Hiccup, he had been right in there being a person in there. It wasn't anyone Gobber recognized though. The boy before him was scrawny in the same sense as Hiccup, but had a bit more height to him. His light chocolate brown hair was spiked up at such insane angles Gobber was left wondering why anyone would see such a hairdo as stylish or what use it could possibly have. He had a sheepish grin on his face, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head where he had likely hit it against a shelf or two. His blue eyes were deep and dark, the irises themselves having a second black ring within them for Thor only knows what. His shrunken black pupils seemed to be being swallowed by the ocean. A blanket was pooled around his bare feet. He wore a pair of puffy black shorts adorned with criss-crossing yellow straps and large red pouches. His hands and arms were as bare as his calves and feet. A sleeveless blue shirt with another strange red design that was likely another pouch adorned his torso. The only other significant thing about him was a chain hanging around his neck with what looked like a metal crown dangling from it.

The boy gave a nervous chuckle, clearly unsure just what he should do or say. "Um . . . S - sorry for - for being back here," he stuttered just as sheepishly as his facial expression implied he felt. Gobber didn't recognize him, and he made sure he knew all of the youths that would have potentially become dragon killers under his guidance not so long ago.

An earlier conversation came to mind, one that had taken place a few hours before now. Gobber had met up with his childhood best friend and current chief, Stoick the Vast, and enjoyed a late night trip to the Great Hall to talk about further plans for the dragons. But it seemed that accommodating the temperamental reptiles was the last thing on the man's mind. Gobber knew something was up instantly and started pestering and prodding his friend over a few drinks and some supper. Stoick held him off until nobody else was within the Great Hall before confiding in the blacksmith as to what his problem was.

Apparently, at least according to Stoick, Hiccup had a habit to taking in the homeless. And not just dragons either! First the Night Fury, now another person! But that wasn't the part that drove Stoick near the brink of insanity. The boy obviously hadn't been Viking born and, after startling the poor lad and his son, had discovered something that set the larger man off. A flash of light. A mysterious weapon. And a lot more questions than there were answers. And while he didn't know the boy's name or his origins, all that mattered was what he had found out. His son had tried to explain the detail away. It was strange that Astrid had been in his house at such a late hour at night, but stranger still was that she was right there next to his son, offering both a physical support and back-up for Hiccup's accusations. But Stoick would have none of it. After ordering Astrid to "escort" the boy to the Great Hall to be dealt with later (and deciding the girl had been spending way too much time around his son when she dared to open her mouth and openly question his orders), Stoick decided it was time to get some answers out of his son once Astrid finally complied and the foreigner were gone.

Stoick learned quite a few things whether his son intended for him to learn or not. And most of what he learned he didn't like. Stoick had long forgotten the boy's name; having said was it something foreign. He also learned that the boy had shown up not too long ago after his ship crashed and was rendered useless. Just how long the brunette had been on the Isle of Berk was beyond Stoick since Hiccup wouldn't say just how many nights it had been. But what really set him off, and for reasons Stoick was not at liberty to disclose why it irked him, the foreign boy one of those Keyblade Bearers. Now, everyone knew the stories of a warrior wielding a magical sword going around slaying monsters of darkness manifested into physical, violent beings. Stoick knew a detail or two that was no common knowledge that unsettled him. Details not even Gobber could worm out of his friend, which was what worried him the most.

Gobber blinked, coming out of his memories with a sudden head shake. The boy hadn't moved other than his hand going away from the back of his head and his sheepish grin becoming a bit more confident and comfortable. Stoick hadn't told Gobber much on the foreigner's appearance, but the thing Gobber remembered clearly was something about a chain and crown around his neck. Why somebody would wear something as demeaning as a collar was beyond the Viking chief. The fact that the only form of tags the boy wore on the chain being that of a crown lead Stoick to wonder just who had ownership of the brunette. And who, in their right minds, sold their child off into slavery.

Seeing it before him now, Gobber found himself wondering the very same thing. Being a craftsman of metal, Gobber couldn't stop himself and barely registered what he was doing when he reached out and gently lifted the crown insignia, gently rubbing it and turned it over between his large fingers. "Mind explain'n to me why you're taking up space back here?" What finally made him realize just what he had done was hearing the boy make a faint sound that sounded like a strangled squeak. Not wanting to further startle the kid, Gobber slowly pulled his hand back and took a step to give the boy another once over.

The boy looked up at him, his wide blue irises likely taking in his appearance as much as Gobber was examining his. It looked like he wanted to tell him, but something was holding him back. Putting two and two together, Gobber sighed and shook his head. The boy clearly knew how to speak Norse at least. And if this was the same kid Stoick had talked about, then how or why was he back here? More likely than not, Hiccup had something to do with it. But Stoick had said that Astrid had been the one he ordered to keep an eye on and take him to the Great Hall for questioning. Which meant this boy had either out run her, ha somehow out smarted Astrid, or the girl was in on the whole thing as well. Not exactly something Gobber would ever expect of the blond.

"Are you - - - " Gobber started but was cut off.

"Please don't be mad at him!"

Gobber blinked, completely dumbfounded by the request. The boy's expression looked serious and almost pleading. The blacksmith quirked an eyebrow at this. "Look, what my 'prentice does is none of my business. But when it concerns my forge, then I want to know what's going on back here." The boy blinked at this, clearly unsure how to respond to that. Whether it was because this wasn't the same kid Stoick had talked about or he didn't know that his apprentice was Hiccup was anyone's guess.

But what the brunette said next threw Gobber off even more.

"The forge? . . . Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed as if a fireball had gone off over his head, "This place is the forge! Hiccup said the blacksmith worked here!" Almost as soon as he said this, the boy's face contorted to that of shock and fear before slamming both of his hands over his mouth.

Gobber threw back his head and laughed at this. "Oi, don't get your undies in a twist."

The boy's expression morphed from fear to confusion faster than a Hiccup could accidentally blow something up. "You're not... mad...?"

Gobber shook his head, slapping his hand against his thigh in amusement. "No, I'm not mad. Just wish my 'prentice had seen fit to tell me he was hiding you here."

Yet again, the boy's face changed as quick as lightning and now expressed innocent confusion as his brain finally caught up to his mouth again. "Wait... Hiccup's your apprentice?"

Gobber nodded his head, a stupid grin plastered across his face. If he was put off that Hiccup hadn't seen fit to tell the boy that little detail, Gobber refused to show it. "Aye. Has been ever seen he was itty bitty." Gobber demonstrated this by bending down waving a hand carelessly just above his right knee. This, in turn, caused the foreign brunette to smile and snicker quietly.

Seeing as how things had settled down and become less hostile between the two of them, Gobber chose now to try and figure out a few things. "You got a name boy? Can't go around calling you "Boy" the entire time Hiccup intends to hide you back here now can I?" Whatever reaction Gobber was expecting from the brunette, it wasn't the look of worry to cross the brunette's face. "It's Sora, sir." Gobber cocked his cranium to one side, curious as to why the boy looked so fretful. "If you're worried I'm going to kick you out, put those fears to rest. I ain't gonna send somebody out on their own in this weather. 'Specially not a child as scrawny as you are." The look of worry remained despite that reassuring gesture. "'N I ain't gonna rat ch'yu out to Stoick neither. You've done nothin' wrong s'far's I can tell." The boy's face relaxed a bit, but he was still clearly worried about something. "Please don't tell his dad that I'm hiding back here. I don't want him to get in even more trouble." Gobber righted his head at this and gave it a gentle shake. "Don't worry about that. I've hidden things far worse from Stoick." At this, any lingering traces of concern vanished. Either this kid was overly trusting or he could tell Gobber wasn't lying. Either way, it got the boy to finally relax.

Gobber gave him a shrug before turning and heading back out of the room. "But yer gonna have to earn yer keep, Sora." No sooner had Gobber reached the main part of the forge did he hear the rapid succession of footsteps against the stone flooring. The man turned around and saw the brunette standing behind him, grinning from ear to ear like a complete loony. Gobber quirked an eyebrow at this, but couldn't suppress a laugh. "You're a strange one. Is everyone as crazy as you are wherever it is you came from?" Sora's lips pulled back to reveal his teeth, his smile never wavering in the least. "Some of them are. Astrid thinks I'm crazy." Gobber rolled his eyes at this, but he grinned none the less. "Lass thinks everyone's crazy. Don't take it personally. I'm amazed she's talk'n to you at all."

Dropping the subject at that, Gobber moved to stroke the dying fires. Apparently he'd been in the back for far longer than he had hoped he would have been. His work was made instantly easier when the Terrible Terror was earlier returned and fired off a stream of narrow fire at the dying embers, bringing the flames back to life almost instantly. Gobber eyed the little dragon before the beast took flight and landed on top of Sora's spiky head. "Thanks for that, Spit!" the brunette praised cheerfully. Gobber blinked at this before shrugging and straightening his spine. So the boy had taken to a dragon already eh? Just how long had he been in Berk?

Gobber turned his back on the boy, switching his axe hand out against for a pair of large metal tongs he himself had fashioned for working in the extreme heat of the forge. He placed the axe on the wall before going back to his previous work; melting metal down into nails. With the recent addiction of dragons, there was a need to build shelters for the beasts. And while quite a few had been made so far, the need for more room seemed to be growing with each passing day. The idea of turning the now useless dragon arena into a temporarily shelter was in effect for the dragons that hadn't bonded with a Viking yet, but more dragons seemed to be showing up daily, thus, adding to the problem. Shortages of metal were cut down to size (literally and figuratively) since weapons weren't in such demand for the time being. Maintenance was still required, but since no dragon raids were going on, weapons were put on hold. Besides, there was no talk of any raids in the near future either. What weapons people were willing to part with were being surrendered to the forge to be melted down for their metal. And any saddle making had been moved into Hiccup's hands since Gobber wasn't comfortable taking the boy's designs and using them without permission. He'd only fashioned the saddle and fin for Toothless as a special order that he probably would never do again for anyone else. Gobber had dealt with Hiccup for so long that he almost considered his friend's son his own.

The pregnant silence that loomed over his head was put on hold when he heard a noise behind him, reminding the blacksmith that he was not alone tonight. Gobber was used to having Hiccup around the forge working, but not at this late hour. He turned to see Sora sitting on the front window where people used to drop off their weapons to be repaired. The Terrible Terror was still sitting on his head, its tail dangling down behind Sora's head. The brunette was watching Gobber's work, seeming to be lost in thought. "Oi, Sora? What do you know about blacksmiths?"Sora blinked, clearly coming out of a trance and whatever thoughts he might have been having. "Hiccup said a blacksmith made weapons," he answered after about a minute's worth of silence. Gobber looked back to his work before pulling out the long iron rod he was currently working on to dump it into a cooling vat, causing steam to rise. "We do plenty of that. But I'm not making a weapon right now." This, in turn, caused Sora to look at the older man strangely, as if trying to make sense his words. "What are you making then?" Gobber gave a faint shrug, as if what he was doing was boring. "Nails. Gotta make more shelters for the dragons ya know?"

The subject was soon dropped at that. Either Sora didn't know about the recently ended 300+ years war with the dragons or he had already been told and therefore understood the demand. Gobber thought that Sora was watching his every move until he turned around and the brunette was gone. Shrugging, figuring the boy had better things to be doing, he turned around to rekindle the fire when he saw the fire rise to life on its own again. Sitting on the floor in front of the now roaring flames was Sora, a look of childish glee on his face. At first, Gobber just blew it off as Sora requesting his dragon to help the fire come back to life. The blacksmith threw a few logs in before he noticed the Terror was curled up on the windowsill. Slowly, Gobber looked the brunette over again, trying to see if he was concealing a candle or a torch.

"How did you do that?" Gobber asked despite himself.

"Do what?" Sora questioned and tilted his head back to look up at the man.

"Whatever it is you did to rekindle the fire."

Sora looked unsure for a moment before sighing in what sounded like defeat. "It's a trick I use. But Hiccup said it's not normal around here and that I shouldn't do it where people can see me."

Ah... That explains it. Sora had thought Gobber had his back to him and wouldn't take notice of whatever it is that he had done. Shrugging it off, the blacksmith moved the now red-hot steel over to his anvil, preparing to begin pounding the metal into shape to later be cut down into smaller nails. "Is that so? And why can't I know about it?" Gobber was only half joking. He was used to kids keeping their secrets despite the fact that he himself had never had children of his own. The knowledge came from training new recruits in dragon training and years of dealing with his best friend's only son.

The answer he got, however, stopped the older man from continuing his work.

"It's magic. Hiccup asked me to try and teach him too."

Gobber stopped mid-swing to turn and look at the boy as if he'd never seen him before. _Magic_? That stuff couldn't possibly exist! It was hard enough to imagine this boy was really one of those Keyblade Something-Or-Others. Sora noticed the silence as well, because his innocent smile was long gone and replaced with a slightly serious demeanor. Something Gobber thought looked a bit odd on the runt. "I can't say I've ever see real magic. And I'd advise against trying to teach Hiccup. He's likely to burn all of Berk down if you did." Gobber was only half kidding, but Sora's expression softened up a bit. "I could show you, but you have to promise not to tell Hiccup if I did. He might get mad." Gobber chuckled at this. Wherever Sora had come from, he had picked a good person to stick with during his stay in Berk. He gave a nod of his head, curious as to just what Sora could and would do that he called "magic".

Sora jumped to his feet, giving the Terror time to climb onto his shoulder. He brought his right hand up to this chest before swinging it down to his side. A bright flash of light went off in the palm of his hand, which remained and elongated itself. It died away to reveal something that resembled a large key. The hand guards looked to be made of solid gold and the blade itself was silver. The key's "teeth" was a rectangle with what looked like a crown cut-out. A thick metal chain dangled behind the handle, sticking out from the sword's pummel. Gobber didn't catch sight of the symbol hanging from the chain before he was drawn to Sora's movements again. He spun it around deftly between his fingers before pointing the end of it at the fire. Nothing happened at first and Gobber would have thought the kid was just playing with him until he felt a strange surge of energy come from in front of him. Mere seconds later, the blunt tip of the blade lit up and a fireball the size of Gobber's pinky finger shot out toward the fire. The roaring flames themselves seemed unaffected by the change, but Gobber could have sworn his jaw hit the floor. "How... how did you DO that? And - And what is _THAT_ thing!" He looked the boy over again for the umpteenth time that night. Sora didn't shy away from him. Instead he opted to flash another toothy grin. "I told you; it's magic! And this," he cried with excited enthusiasm before producing his blade before the older man, "is the Keyblade!"

That's it. Gobber knew he'd gone crazy. Too much inhaled ash most likely. The blacksmith reached out and fingered the tip of the blade before yanking his hand back. He looked to Sora, trying to read his expression. The brunette didn't seem bothered by his prodding, but swung the sword around for a moment before dismissing it in a similar fashion the way he had summoned it. Well, one thing was certain; Stoick hadn't been yanking his remaining leg. Not that Gobber had ever doubted him in the first place or anything. What he still didn't understand was why Stoick was so against the boy being around when all the old stories said that the Keyblade Bearer worked to protect others. There was something Stoick knew that Gobber and everyone else in Berk didn't and he was now more determined to figure out just what those things were.

"Hiccup's dad got mad when he saw it. Did I something wrong?"

Gobber snapped out of his thoughts when he registered what Sora was asking. Sora looked worried again; something Gobber was learning he didn't like seeing. "I can't say for sure, but don't worry about it. I'll handle Stoick since I'm actually curious about that as well." Sora donned another smile at this. Gobber returned the gesture. "Besides, it's not _WHO_ you are that Stoick doesn't like. It's _WHAT_ you are that bothers him." Sora's smile dropped as he quirked an eyebrow, trying to make sense of what Gobber had said. Apparently, Hiccup had also failed to tell him that Gobber was horrible at making people feel better about themselves.

Gobber went back to his work, but felt like talking anyway since there was somebody else around to hold a conversation with. "Who made that Keyblade anyway?" The blacksmith didn't turn away from his work even when Sora didn't answer the question right away. "Hiccup asked the same thing. I don't know who made it though." Gobber shrugged and watched the steel rod he had been working with earlier turn white over the fire, making it an ideal time to work on molding it. "Really now? That's odd. I would think whoever made it would want their names known for credit." Gobber could have sworn he heard Sora move around behind him, but concentrated on his work to prevent any screw ups he would have to take time to fix.

"Who do you serve anyway?" Honesty, Gobber was hoping for some answers about that crown Sora wore around his neck.

"I guess, in a sense, I serve His Majesty. But I fight for what I believe is right, even if it means going against him."

Gobber couldn't help but think of some of the other nations to the south of Berk. There were places that they tended to raid for their riches and edible goods that had what, Gobber had learned, was called a "monarchy". A lot of the "knights" down there served the "king" and fought for him rather than be on the front lines with his men. This, in the eyes of the Vikings, was very cowardly of their leaders. "You're from somewhere down south then eh? You're a long way from home, Sora." Gobber ceased in his hammering to look back at the brunette.

Sora was fiddling around with one of Hiccup's odd tools that were far too small for Gobber to use due to the massive difference in the sizes of their hands. Sora didn't look as cheerful as he had been earlier, but he was quick to mask it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Probably. But they know I'm okay and Hiccup said he was going to try and help me get home again." Gobber shouldn't have been surprised by this. Hiccup was proving to have a knack for attempting the impossible and helping out the under dogs. Which was fine by Gobber's standards. He always tended to side with the ones nobody thought would make it. Hence why he had pushed Stoick to let Hiccup into dragon training. That gamble had proven to be worth it even after the truth about Toothless came out.

"So, what can I do to help out and earn my keep around here?"

Gobber looked at Sora with a wry grin. "We can start by figuring out just how accurate your hammer swings are." The older blacksmith pulled a smaller hammer off of the wall and handed it over to the lanky teenager. "Hiccup's been scaring away customers lately anyway. Few are willing to come over here with a Night Fury on guard duty."

Several hours later, and Gobber hadn't learned much about the kid as a fighter. But what he had learned about the foreign brunette left the older man perplexed. While Sora didn't look very powerful, he had an untapped strength from within and an even bigger heart. He couldn't resist helping Gobber out even if he knew nothing on the subject at hand. He was a little less accident prone than Hiccup was, but he was more likely to bring harm onto himself rather than those around him. And his attention span wasn't much better than Hiccup's either. One second he's watching Gobber smash a block of steal into shape, and the next thing Gobber knows Sora's laughing and chasing his Terror around the room. If he had a question, he was not above making himself look like an idiot to get some answers. The brunette was quite a bit more outwardly expressive than his peers too. His aim wasn't too bad either.

Gobber hadn't gotten as much as he would have wanted done, but he actually didn't mind that too much. Granted, it was still weird to have Sora in the forge. The boy had long since passed out on a wooden work bench, snoring softly while his Terrible Terror (Spitfire as Gobber had learned it had been named) was curled up against the boy's side. No amount of poking, threatening, or pinching could get the boy to wake up. Not wanting to leave Sora out in plain view of anybody who walked past the forge, Gobber sighed and slung the brunette over his shoulder. Spitfire awoke and protested but Sora never made a sound. Gobber moved him back into the back room with the rest of the storage and whatever odd bits and ends Hiccup had saved up. Gobber rolled out Sora's earlier blanket on the floor before settling him down, Sora never making a sound other than the occasional incoherent mumble. Spitfire snuggled up against the boy's stomach and passed out again not too long after.

With the boy fast asleep, Gobber took his chances and picked up the crown symbol hanging from Sora's neck. It was flat and smooth over the front it. Definitely made by a master craftsmen who knew what they were doing. But the back of it had nothing to it other than attaching itself to the metal chain. If the symbol really was a sign of whoever "owned" Sora, Gobber didn't understand it. And the idea that somebody would consider the hyper little kid an object or a pet rather than a person bothered him somehow.

The sun was starting to rise over the horizon, telling Gobber it was long past his time to head home and get some shut eye. The blacksmith put out the last of the dying fires before closing up shop. He stopped himself from leaving the building and looked the place over; making sure nothing was out of place. Nothing that could possibly be seen has a third person working and pretty much living in the forge. There was an extra scorch mark on the roof due to Spitfire getting ticked off after Gobber accidentally stepped on his tail, but it wasn't noticeable to anybody who didn't spend as much time in the forge as Gobber and Hiccup did.

Sighing to himself, Gobber hobbled outside and stopped to look back at the forge as a whole. A wry grin came across his face before he turned and began the trek back to his real home.

"Stoick is going to kill me if ever finds out about this . . ."

* * *

**Foot Notes:**  
• I haven't done a lot historical research on the Viking era, so forgive me if anything is inaccurate.  
•_ "as if a fireball had gone off over his head"_ is sorta like a "lightbulb" going off over Sora's head. And since Vikings didn't have lightbulbs way back when, I just went with what with fire instead.


	5. To Fight The Dark

**Author's Notes:  
**• I do not own Kingdom Hearts, How To Train Your Dragon, or Disney. Period. End of discussion.  
• I don't know why, but I figured that if HTTYD was actually a world in one of the games, Maleficent would make the perfect enemy since the Red Death is, well, _dead.  
_• Was planning on doing a similar story for other characters to give more depth to the tale through different points of view.  
• Not sure if I'm going to actually go through with my idea since I'm currently stuck on Astrid's part.  
• I haven't written a story that implies a fight in a while, and I have been asked by different people if I would ever write one. Well, this is the closest I've gotten to an actual fight sequence thus far.

* * *

Out of breath. Out of his mind. Out of range . . . for now at least.

He should have seen this coming. Why hadn't he seen this coming?

Wave after wave of the black beasts had taken a toll on everyone. He felt no remorse toward the Heartless he'd felled in the last few hours. There was no point in such a thought. It was either slay the monsters of the dark be be slain himself at the hands of their inky, black claws. He was used to fighting the Heartless. After battling against them for almost two years now, one should hope the brunette Keyblade Wielder knew what he was doing.

His target? Their leader. His task? Anything but easy. But he'd done this before. It could almost be considered a routine for Sora by now. Sometimes his mind would go completely blank while his body did what came naturally to it.

_Swing. Parry. Dodge. Magic. Heal. Chained Combo. Rinse. Lather. Repeat As Necessary._

A flash of neon green.

A sudden heat wave.

A nauseous smell.

A loud, ear - splitting roar.

The sound of trees snapping and wings flapping.

Sora whirled himself around, subconsciously pulling up the collar of his shirt to cover his nose and mouth. With it being so dark out, finding his target was going to be a bit of a pain. Nowhere near as hard as trying to track down a NeoShadow... thankfully.

His azure eyes narrowed, trying to find the black reptilian body. The green fires lighting up the trees on both sides and behind him provided some illumination, but it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the new brightness. The scaled hide loomed into view, blocking the only direction Sora could run without potentially being set on fire. It's underbelly and the front of its long, thin neck was a deep and dark violet, nearly blending in with the rest of the beast's body entirely. The back of its head was adorned with two long black horns that were even present in the dragon's human form. The only reason its head was even distinguishable from the rest of the darkness were a pair of bright yellow eyes that lacked pupils; much like that of a Heartless. The inside of her narrow mouth lined with sharp black teeth was also yellow, but at the moment those jaws were closed. Adorning the beast's back, just above the shoulder blades, were a pair of wings that looked far too small when compared to the rest of the ebony monster. Spikes lined its spine, upper neck, and long, powerful tail along with ivory claws were a force to be reckoned with.

That is, if the fire didn't get you first.

The toxic green flames the beast breathed clung to whatever and whoever they touched. The fires weren't as sticky as that of a Monstrous Nightmare, but the after effect of the flames more than made up for that. Anything the flames licked at and burned released nauseous fumes into the air which, if too much is inhaled, burned at the throat and lungs. It wasn't like normal ash. Sora had the sneaking suspicion that if he breathed too much of the terrible stench, it could potentially be deadly. Aside from the terrible burning sensations, it made breathing difficult and made his nostrils feel like they were bleeding. It was possible the fumes released from the fires were poisonous.

Taking as few breaths as possible, Sora adjusted his grip on the Keyblade, currently in its Oblivion form, and glared up at the beast. The dragon before him had been defeated by his hands with the help of Donald, Goofy, and the Beast while she was still in her [i]human[/i] form and had reverted to such a twisted state at the hands of Riku, who was possessed by Xehanort's Heartless at the time. But it would seem this time the Mistress of All Evil decided to skip the first fight and go straight to her dragon form.

He'd fought this monster before when he was fourteen years old inside of the Castle Chapel of Hollow Bastion. Sora hadn't been alone then like he was now and he had been given the chance to rest up and restock his item supply before taking Maleficent on again. But Sora liked to think that he was stronger than he used to be and far wiser in the ways of battle. His current item stock was running extremely low. After splitting his Hi-Potions up between himself, Astrid, and Hiccup, Sora was lucky he even had two left at all. He'd handed over three to both of them, telling them they were for dire emergencies only. He hadn't seen either of them since this whole battle began several hours ago come to think of it. Sora hoped they were okay, but right now he wasn't in a position to drop everything and go looking for them. He'd located his target and knew that in order to end all of this, Maleficent would need to be taken down. And the sooner the better. The longer she stuck around, the more Heartless were able to leak to this world. And while the Vikings were a hardy, war-like bunch, Sora didn't want to test their luck against inhuman beasts for much longer.

Well . . . At least he wasn't [i]completely[/i] alone.

Spitfire had hung around for the majority of the battles. The green Terrible Terror was currently located on his favorite perch; Sora's head. The dragon's supply of fuel for his fire had run low not even an hour into the fighting. And by the time Sora had managed to take down the only Behemoth to show up thus far, Spitfire was completely spent. Sora couldn't blame the little dragon or be crestfallen by the news either. The Terror continued to stick with him, sending out chirps and hisses to warn him if anything was sneaking up from behind them. Spitfire would also occasionally dart out and fly quickly around a cluster of Heartless, distracting and confusing them long enough for the brunette to send them back to Kingdom Hearts. But even that had taken its toll on the small dragon as he wore out far quicker than his larger relatives. Spit's tail clung loosely around Sora's throat and shoulders, the dragon's claws barely digging into his hair to support himself.

If Spitfire thought he was weary and tired, Sora felt fatigued and short of breath. He hadn't fought this hard since he teamed up with Riku and took down Xemnas. Granted, Maleficent didn't throw fight after fight against him along with an army of Nobodies. But fighting alone was always harder than fighting with some back-up and an army of Heartless was probably a lot more annoying and taxing since there were far more Heartless species than Nobody. Heartless seemed to be a lot more numerous and any slain by something other than a Keyblade had the potential to re-spawn and go for Round 2. Even slaying 1,000 Heartless back in Hollow Bastion / Radiant Garden hadn't been this taxing in his body and mind.

Biting back any sense of doubt, Sora spread his feet apart and squared his shoulders. He could hear Spitfire twitter uncertainly over the roar of the fires behind him. The brunette almost wished the dragon had stayed behind when Spitfire had the chance, but Sora was none the less grateful for the Terror's companionship and desire to see this battle through with him.

With yellow eyes narrowed and mouth slowly opening, Maleficent curved her neck back and stood on her hind legs. If she looked big before, she appeared colossal now. Wisps of neon green smoke escaped through her flared nostrils and gaping maw. If a dragon could have a sadistic grin, she now wore one proudly. She had her target cornered, surrounded on all sides but directly in front of him by her toxic flames. The brat's only option was to either recklessly charge through the pillars of fire (which she doubted even he was stupid enough to do that) or face her jagged teeth and hellfire head-on.

Letting out a deep rumble the equivalent of a laugh, Maleficent threw her head back and spread her wings. Balls of green fire lit up before her in a circle. With another roar, she slammed her front feet onto the soft soil and opened her jaws wide. The spheres of acidic flames rained down in curved arcs, making it near impossible to determine their paths.

Having done this long before, Sora jumped back as far as he would dare to put some space between him and Maleficent. His jump served another purpose as well. It meant the shockwave that went off when the dragon slammed her front feet down passed beneath him harmlessly. The trees quivered from the powerful jolt, but the fires did not cease burning. With his magic running dangerously low and no Ethers on hand, Sora decided against calling forth a Protega spell and instead went for the old duck and dodge roll method. Some of the flames landed too close for comfort and Sora was barely able to throw the Keyblade up in time to avoid being burned at one point. After such a close call, Sora now thought he understood why Astrid had thought he was nuts for turning down the offer of a wood and iron shield.

Another sharp screech drew Sora's attention, but not in time to avoid the dragon's next offensive move. Maleficent was furious her attacks missed and she shot her head down, using her neck like a coil spring, and scooped up her young target within her jaws. Sora was just lucky enough to throw the Keyblade up in time to avoid being crushed. His sneakers pressed down on Maleficent's bright yellow tongue, both of his arms over his head to hold the Keyblade by both its handle and its teeth against the dragon's upper jaw. The jolt from being suddenly scooped up off of the ground had jarred his shirt loose from his nose and mouth. The dragon's breath smelt terrible and the idea of being within the jaws of death was barred from crossing his mind through sheer force of will.

And the green gas began to build up again.

Spitfire hissed and jumped down from Sora's head, using what little might he had to pierce the long, forked tongue with his claws. Maleficent hissed sharply, sending out her flames as a mere defensive reaction and swinging her head around violently. And with Sora still trapped between her jaws, he was as good as fried.

Or at least, Sora would have become a Kentucky Fried Keyblader had he not used the last of his magic to throw up a Protega spell. The flames licked on past him and Spitfire. The attack caused the protective shield of transparent hexagons to break and shoot off balls of light as a offensive reaction, catching Maleficent by surprised. She roared once again, swinging her head around in a series of violent arcs while her jaw opened further. Sora was spared from the flames, but not from the merciless force of gravity.

The arc at which Maleficent had thrown her head sent the brunette careening back toward the ground like a rocket. Her green fires had finally began to die down, but it was of little conscious to Sora. He barely had the time to register just what had happened and where he was going before he was slammed into an unforgiving tree (which had recently ceased being on fire) with his left shoulder. The impact jarred Sora's senses so much he lost his grip on the Oblivion and the sword vanished before it made contact with anything else. The weakened trunk didn't hold as Sora hadn't hit it dead on, causing it was break at an angle and let Sora continue on his descent to the ground. His shoulder screamed in pain, but that meant nothing to the brunette before he felt the back of his head and upper back slam into something else. He skipped against the ground, sending up dirt, rocks, and ash as his upper spine felt like it was on fire, much like his lungs and throat. Despite the protection his spell had provided him, it didn't filter out the hazy, potentially poisonous gas.

By the time momentum finally stopped pushing him forward, Sora was left sitting on his upper back while his feet were sprawled out in the air above him. His head was mere inches away from coming into contact with yet another tree trunk. He let out a tired groan before his legs slammed down to the soil, leaving him dazed and staring up at the cloudy night sky. The quarter moon was obscured by a thick veil of clouds, making it was near impossible to locate even one star. Sora had no idea how far out from Berk he had traveled after he took off after Maleficent, but he hoped somebody would come to help fight the beast and locate him in the process.

Sora would never admit it to anyone, but he was getting worried. The longer this went on, the worse the final outcome could potentially be. He could hear Maleficent screeching in frustration from her lost target, but his hearing was dulling at a steady rate. The world around him was becoming hazy, but he fought against his blurring vision to see Spitfire land clumsily next to his torso. Good. The dragon was okay. Sora offered up a weak smile before fishing through his pockets for one of his remaining Hi-Potions. The brunette forced himself upright in time to yank a Hi-Potion out of his right red pouch. Spitfire was gracious enough to pull the cork stopper off with his mouth. The Terror then put his head beneath the bottle, shoving it up closer to the brunette. Sora smiled weakly despite himself and downed the bottle's contents greedily.

The Hi-Potion took affect almost instantly. Sora felt the friction burns to his upper spine and the back of his head throb less by the second. He heard and felt his left shoulder crack and pop back into its socket. The potion numbed the pain that he should have felt with having such a limb being shoved back into place. The burning in his lungs, throat, and nostrils became a tolerable thump. Hi-Potions could only work so far and Sora had neglected to see the need to carry an Elixer this time.

A distant feral cry drew Sora's attention back toward Maleficent's dragonic form. The black beast had her head turned away from him as she snapped at her spine. It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but a blurry figure racked its claws against her hide. Maleficent screeched again and attempted to bat the creature away with her wings. Her attempts were in vain. Sora found himself just standing there and watching the quarrel take place. The smaller flying beast slammed into Maleficent's right shoulder, nearly toppling the ebony dragon over. Infuriated, she returned the favor by standing on her back legs and swiping her massive claws, somehow managing to nail the smaller creature with enough force to knock it out of the sky. The shock of the whole situation multiplied ten fold as the green fires gave enough light to reflect off of the falling dragon's scales.

Blue and yellow. Two legs. Innumerable sharp spikes.

The smaller dragon let out a low cry in what could only be pain and surprise. It sailed over Sora's head, landing several yards behind the brunette. He sincerely prayed that Nadder wasn't Birdbrain. And, if it was, that the dragon wasn't seriously injured, To add onto that, Sora hoped that Astrid was okay too. He hadn't heard or seen her on the dragon, but it was hard to tell in the hazy moonlight. If Astrid hadn't been on the dragon, then Sora was left to wonder just where was she. Surely she hadn't gotten separated from the Nadder. He wasn't even going to entertain the idea of any worse possible fates Astrid could have suffered by this point.

With his magic still recharging and only one Hi-Potion left, Sora slowly hefted himself up off of the ground. He rotated his left shoulder, making sure it was still functional without causing him too much pain. It was sore and a little stiff, but still workable. His spine, cranium, and upper back felt fine, indicating these was the main targets of the Hi-Potion.

Sora slung down his right hand, calling the Keyblade to his aide once more, this time in the form of Ultima Weapon to hasten his magic recovery process. He wanted to go back and check up on the fallen Deadly Nadder, but he couldn't turn around and run away now. Maleficent still needed to be dealt with. Dragons were a hardy bunch, so he clung to the hope that the dragon had survived the landing with only minor injuries. Spitfire croaked out a low note, drawing Sora's attention to it, but the Terror was quick to adjust and climb up to the boy's right shoulder. The dragon warbled in an uneasy tone, catching Sora's attention. The boy offered up an encouraging grin to the green Terror. Spit had no more flammable gas and had barely made the small journey up to his shoulder. The fact that the dragon hadn't climbed onto his head was a serious indication that something was up.

It was about then that he realized just what was wrong. While he had made sure to try and avoid breathing in the nauseous air, Sora hadn't made sure Spitfire was safe. He'd assumed that since Maleficent was also a dragon, the stale air wouldn't affect the Terror. Apparently, he'd thought wrong. Sighing despite himself, knowing full well what he was doing, Sora fished out his last Hi-Potion, pulled the cork off, and offered the drink over to the Terror. Spitfire tilted his head back and opened his mouth, allowing the green liquid to be dunked down his throat. Sora gave it all to the little dragon. Spitfire deserved it.

Leaving the now two empty bottles behind in the dirt, Sora watched Spitfire as he hiccuped and shook his head round head. The Terror's chirps became more alert as he tested his firepower by releasing a small flicker of a flame. The dragon grinned before jumped of off of Sora's shoulder, flying a few circles around the boy, before coming down for a landing on Sora's head with an encouraging squawk. Apparently, Spit was ready for some action again. Letting his earlier grin widen, Sora's confidence swelled within him once more as he slung the Ultima Weapon onto his right shoulder.

"Get ready, Maleficent! It all ends here!"

And, with that, Sora let out his own renewed battle cry, brandished his Keyblade in both hands, and charged back into the fray.


	6. Numb

**Author's Notes:**

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_, _Kingdom Hearts_, or _Disney_. All of them belong to respective copyright owners. The most I've got are PlayArts figurines and other miscellaneous merchandise**.  
**• Okay, so I finally got off of my lazy ass and wrote an Astrid chapter to go along with the previous Sora one. I've been talking to my RP buddy that I've mentioned several times thus far and it sounds like she might be attempting some of her own. However, I will **NOT** post her stories without her permission.  
• This one is a bit long. To give you an idea just how long, it's over twice as long as the previous Sora chapter. Just a fair warning.  
• _**WARNING:**_ This story _**DOES NOT**_ have a happy ending.

* * *

So this was what it felt like to be a real battle huh? Bloody, bruised, sweaty, and in serious need of some rest. The fighting had originally started a while ago, when the day began its slow descent into night. The first sighting of the mass of moving black and specks of yellow on the far edge of the chain of islands they called home had been a mistake. They all felt it had been. There was no other explanation for the jet black beasts leaping forward from the imagination of every Viking who knew the story. It was much easier for more than half of the village to lie to themselves and claim what had seen was nothing more than a lie.

The sun was just a half circle on the horizon when the first battle cry was yelled and the first Heartless was slain.

That had been several hours ago. Astrid had long since lost sight of Hiccup, the twins, Snolout, Sora, Fishlegs, and their respective dragons. She had not seen another Viking in what seemed like forever. If she could survive the night, then Astrid was confident she would be in the clear. But how long was it until the sun rose again? She had spent who knows how long wondering through the dark, slowly but surely getting cut off from everyone else, fighting monsters she could only distinguish from the background by their yellow eyes.

Honestly, the blond considered herself lucky to make it this long and far without losing her life and sanity. Her right shoulder guard had been dislodged a long time ago, lost to the forest that overtook most of the isle of Berk. Her left shoulder guard had taken a beating and one of the bands of metal had been snapped and smashed in, poking her shoulder without mercy with its jagged edges whenever she raised her arm over her head. Her mother's midnight blue breast plate had proven valuable as shown by the dint in the middle of her chest. The shield she had been carrying had been beaten, torn from her grasp, and lost not too long after her right shoulder guard. The handle of her axe had been snapped in two, leaving her reach and aim awkward and near impossible to work with. Her hunting dagger had been lodged in the head of one of the larger black beasts and she never found it again after the monster was felled. Every muscle in her body was screaming from fatigue and her joints were aching for an extended break. Her mind wasn't as sharp as it should have been due to pure exhaustion and her arms were scrapped and cut open by misjudged tumbles and claws. There were a few tears to her shirt and trousers, but her spiked leather skirt had done its job protecting her. At one point she had come dangerously close to chopping off one of Sora's arms when she spotted the yellow of his gloves and swung, thinking it was a Heartless. Good thing the brunette had sharp reflexes at the time.

But it hadn't been all bad news. Astrid had felled an innumerable amount of the monsters. She had managed to protect Tuffnut the last time she had run into him by killing one of the larger pure black beast that she would come to later know as a Darkball. The monster had been preparing to lunge at the male twin, but was literally smacked out of the air and pinned to the ground by Birdbrain's poisonous tail spines. The last person Astrid had run into had been Gobber, who was in fair better shape than she was. The blacksmith had a spiked hammer for a hand and an axe in the other. It was heavier than her traditional axe, but Gobber willingly handed the thing over to compensate for her own weapon's broken handle. He had warned her against going down into any glades she ran into. Apparently some Vikings had taken to setting them on fire to kill large sums of the beasts in one move. Astrid didn't question the method but silently hoped the cove Hiccup and Toothless considered a second home had been spared. But that had been a while ago. The axe Gobber had given her had taken some getting used to, but Astrid was now as confident with it as she was with her own.

A roar unlike anything Astrid had ever heard before split the air. The blond stiffened up, frantically seeking out the source of the terrible ear-splitting cry. The poor lighting due to the cloudy night and quarter moon made it near impossible for her to make out the shape of the beast that had screeched to Asgard. What little she could make out of it made her instantly believe it was a dragon of some sort. She saw the narrow face, jagged teeth, curved horns, and almost-transparent wings. What Astrid didn't understand was why the beast was on its rear legs. When it threw its head back and balls of green fire appeared out of thin air, Astrid was instantly reminded of when Sora called forth fire spells as a defense mechanism around himself. The blond stumbled backwards when the dragon slammed back down to earth, sending its balls of fire to rain down to some unseen target before it.

It was then that Astrid noticed the pillars of fire before the unknown ebony dragon. And at the angle she was standing, it took her a little while to figure out that the flames formed a near perfect circle with one small opening. The only reason she could even tell that was much was due to the higher elevated ground she was standing on compared to the location of the toxic green fire. The blond took a step forward, ready to take off running toward the large dragon, when she was met with another swarm of Heartless. She'd already downed one of the three Hi-Potions Sora had all but shoved into her hands. The other two dangled around her waist by loops that were part of a make-shift rope belt. Astrid scowled and continued on with the relentless slaughter of the dark beings. She managed to clear a path for herself before taking off in the direction of the dragon she had spotted earlier. Occasionally, Astrid would chance a glance behind her. Some of the larger Heartless, known as NeoShadows, were giving chase.

Silly girl. Should have paid more attention to where she was going.

The next thing Astrid knew, she was sprawled out on her back and staring up at a pair of glowing, solid yellow eyes.

Astrid bit back a scream in frustration. She couldn't make out the beast's details since it completely blended in with the background aside from its yellow eyes. It leaned in closer to her as the three previously chasing her finally caught up. Scowling, Astrid tightened her grip on her axe and swung wide and hard over her head. It was difficult to do since the blade was meant to be carrying with both hands, but Astrid pulled it off without straining a muscle. The blade connected cleanly with the beast's throat, lopping off its head as it continued in its arc. The monster disintegrated into thin air. Astrid used the momentum from her axe swing to maneuver herself back onto her stomach. She kicked both of her feet beneath her and jumped out of the way just in time to feel a pair of massive claws connect with her unprotected shoulder instead of her chest. Astrid swallowed a scream in anguish, instead going in for the kill. Her axe swings weren't as precise as they should have been since she could barely see her targets, so she aimed for between their eyes.

The first NeoShadow, the one that had hit her shoulder, was felled when the blade split its head clean in half. Astrid felt no satisfaction as she pulled the blade back and performed another swing by the time the first Heartless began to fade back into the darkness. Her second swing connected with the black monster in the chest since it had attempted to jump over her. Pure momentum behind the blade sent the axe clear through the monster's chest. It too began to fade back into darkness by the time Astrid started frantically looking around for her third and final target.

She should have looked behind her.

A jet stream of fire went off over her head, nailing something from behind her. It took all of the girl's mental might not to tuck and roll. She heard the pained screech of a felled Heartless from behind, but she didn't dare look back at the fallen monster. Instead, the blond opted to stare straight ahead, gripping the end of the axe Gobber had given her in both hands. But it was all for naught. Astrid blinked several times, unsure of just what she was staring at. She knew those turquoise blue and radiant yellow scales anywhere. A faint smile tugged at her lips even though she knew the expression was completely uncalled for in her current situation. But Astrid couldn't stop herself.

"Hey, Bird . . ."

One concerned squawk later and Astrid was nearly overwhelmed. The Deadly Nadder immediately approached the partially armed Viking, seeming unfazed by the blond's previous demeanor. Astrid was more than a little happy to see her dragon companion. Over the past few months, the two had developed a bond that Astrid couldn't put into words. At some points, the Nadder was like her shadow; following everywhere she went and voicing her opinion when the dragon deemed it necessary. At other points Birdbrain would become like a second axe to her; a second weapon if you will. Still other times the dragon acted more like a mother to Astrid than the blond dared to admit. Just having Birdbrain there beside her sent a wave of relief through her. The previous tension was gone, but now Astrid felt spent. She felt ready to drop dead any second now for some reason. Her grip on her axe was loosened to the point it was only held in her right hand, and even that grip was lax as the blade was touching the ground.

Birdbrain tittered quietly, sniffing every inch of Astrid before giving the dragon rider a gentle nudge to Astrid's right shoulder; the one that had been hit by a Heartless. The blond barely suppressed a hiss. There was a faint throb of pain. It was something she could live with. No point in wasting yet another one of those weird potions Sora had given her on something so minor and non-life-threatening. But Birdbrain would have none of it. She nudged at Astrid's shoulder again before licking the three long gashes that went from the front of her shoulder, over the top, and down her back to stop just before the actual shoulder blade. Astrid hissed again, this time taking a step back away from the Deadly Nadder. "Stop it. We've got more important things we need to be doing." Astrid hated to do it, but she shoved the Nadder's nose away from her. If the dragon attempted to lick her shoulder again, Astrid wasn't sure if she would be left standing anymore. The dragon's tongue was rough and felt unpleasant against her skin.

The moment was cut short with another ear splitting cry. Astrid jerked around, firmly grasping her axe in both hands and searching for the source of the outcry. She looked back in the direction of the dragon she had seen earlier. Sure enough, it was swinging its head around and letting out a loud roar of what Astrid hoped was pain. Its mouth was clamped down on something, but it was jerking around too much and too far away for Astrid to be able to tell who or what was trapped within the dragon's jaws. The dragon shot out a stream of toxic green fire and continued to swing its head.

Astrid wasn't sure if she blinked or if her fatigue was making her see things, but the blond could have sworn she saw a flash of several balls of light. Again the dragon screeched in what could be nothing more than pure pain mixed with shock and rage. This time, when it swung its head, it released its prey from his jaws. Whatever or whoever it was went flying towards the ground, back to where the circle of fire was dying down. She didn't hear any other cries other than the dragon's, but that could have just as easily been because the black monster's screams were so loud they were overpowering any others. Astrid could have sworn she heard a tree break, but it could have been her imagination.

"What in the world . . . ?"

Birdbrain lowered her head expectantly. Without missing a beat, Astrid shoved the long, wooden handle of her axe between her spine and the back of her borrowed breast plate. It fit nicely enough not to hinder her ability to bend forward while not having enough space to jingle around too much in flight. Astrid grabbed hold of one of the spines growing on the back of the Nadder's crown of her head and pulled herself up using one hand, the other pressed against the dragon's side. Birdbrain lifted a leg, allowing Astrid to use the dragon's foot as an extra step before pushing herself up and onto the back of the turquoise dragon. It had taken a lot of practice to memorize where the spikes along the dragon's spine were located and more than a few minor puncture wounds, scratches, and torn shirts to get it down right. Astrid eased herself into a sitting position aligned behind the dragon's wings before bracing herself and hanging onto the spines along Birdbrain's spine with both hands. She vaguely wondered just how different it would be to ride with a saddle, but this was fine at the moment. Her leather skirt proved enough protection from the rough scales of the dragon. And Birdbrain's hide was thick enough to parry any damage the spikes on her skirt could hope to cause.

Birdbrain got a running start. And just as she was about to run head long into a tree, the Nadder kicked off of the ground and began to pump her wings at a furious rate to get herself airborne. In a matter of seconds, Astrid went from being grounded to soaring through the air. Usually, the sensation took her breath away. But now was not the time for sentimental thoughts. They had a dragon to fight and Astrid wasn't going to fall off and waste her chance to be of any serious help in this fight. After that tumble against the Red Death, Astrid was itching for another chance to prove herself against a massive dragon. While this one wasn't as large as the former dragon leader, it would have to do.

The thing about dragon riding is that, well, you really have no control over the dragon, the course it chooses to take, or even how long you'll be in the air. You can't alter the aerodynamic maneuvers nor can you decide when, where, or how you'll land. The only thing between you and a quick plummet to the ground is literally a pair of leathery wings, a scaled body, and a trust that has to be worth putting your life in the hands of.

Astrid leaned forward, keeping her head down, and generally doing anything she could to lessen any wind resistance. Birdbrain was closing in on their target at a rapid rate. Astrid could feel the Nadder's muscles tighten and could have sworn she felt the beast's chest swell as if preparing to release her notoriously intense flames. Flames that were strong enough to reduce the strongest of metals into puddles of molten iron in mere seconds. Flames that, not too long ago, Astrid was never happy to see. She still wasn't, but she also knew that those flames would never be directed at her to cause her harm. At least, not from Birdbrain anyway.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Any sentimental thoughts about what she was getting herself into were put on hold as soon as Astrid felt a jolt coarse through Birdbrain and then threw herself. The Nadder had collided with the black dragon's shoulder. Whether the maneuver was intentional or not was unimportant. Astrid tightened her grip with her thighs as she fought to just hang on. The blond glanced up just in time to see a stream of toxic green go off just centimeters above her head. Had she been sitting up straight, the flames would have burned her face and upper torso. The noxious smell burned her nose and throat, but Birdbrain quickly dipped down into a dive to avoid the ebony beast's jaws. The Nadder tilted herself so that she was tumbling down at an angle, her ivory talons on her feet before her as if she was going into a drop-kick. And, sure enough, those very same sharp claws raked against the larger, black dragon's left shoulder. A few small sparks flew at the contact between talons and scales. The black dragon was more annoyed than injured it would seem. Birdbrain rooted herself in place by sinking in both of her feet into the scales between the larger black dragon's shoulder blades as best as she could before releasing a powerful jet stream of her magnesium-fueled flames straight toward the gaping jaws of the other dragon. The larger black dragon had turned her head backwards thanks to her long neck to get a good look at the turquoise dragon that dared to attack it. The flames connected and licked down the black dragon's face, down its throat, and some even traveled down its long neck. Birdbrain soon ceased fire upon realizing that even her intense flames would have no effect here. Dragons may be fire proof on the outside, but that didn't mean they enjoying being set on fire. The black dragon screeched in anger. It would seem Birdbrain's fire had little to no effect past angering the larger dragon. Astrid tightened her grip in anticipation. She wanted to reach back for her axe, but knew she was in no position to attack. Throwing her weapon would end up with the loss of it and dismounting from Birdbrain was not an option at this point in time.

The black dragon jerked her head forward. Birdbrain had attempted to jump out of the way, but without the running start she needed to take flight, she was at a severe disadvantage. Night Furies were the only dragons capable of vertical takeoff due to their incredible power-to-weight ratio thanks to their possession of the largest wing-to-body ratio of all the known dragons. Night Furies could fly higher, faster and longer than any other dragon. Granted, Nadders could sustain flight for longer distances and were known for their agile movements when airborne. But since Birdbrain was no Night Fury, these qualities were not her own.

And, as a result of these shortcomings when in comparison, what happened next really shouldn't have been all that shocking.

The black dragon's jaws snapping shut around one of the smaller turquoise dragon's legs. The Nadder released her own ear splitting screech and flapped her long wings furiously, desperate to escape the sharp teeth and toxic green flames. She even threw in a peck or two courtesy of the hardened point on the end of her snout toward the black dragon's eyes. But Birdbrain's attempts hadn't been completely in vain. Her attempt to jump away had saved her own head from being crushed. And, better still, it also meant her rider was safe from those jaws for the time being. Astrid could hold back no longer and reached back for her borrowed axe. The blond grit her teeth to hold in her rage as she leaned over the side of the struggling Nadder. No sooner had Astrid caught sight of target did she release her pent up rage toward Birdbrain's attacker.

She swung the heavy axe with one hand, connecting with the black dragon's nose with ease.

The black dragon howled once again, releasing its grip on Birdbrain. The problem was that Birdbrain had been expecting this about as much as their ebony target was. The Nadder shot backwards and upwards due to how furiously she was pumping her wings and, due to Astrid only hanging on with one hand over the side of the Nadder, her rider was jarred loose and knocked off of the blue dragon with a violent jerk. No sooner had Birdbrain realized she was free and suddenly a bit lighter did the Nadder feel a blow to her side, literally knocking her out of the sky and sent her careening back towards the trees and unforgiving ground.

Astrid was both luckier than Birdbrain and unluckier than the Deadly Nadder. The blond landed roughly on the side of the black dragon. Her axe was knocked out of her grip and she was only saved from facing the plummet back to the ground due to her fast reflexes as she gripped one of the many long, jagged black spikes along the larger dragon's spine. No sooner had Astrid realized where she was did things take another wrong turn. The black dragon has spotted her. Astrid ducked down and took her chances as she slid down the side of the black beast. Good thing too. No sooner had she released her grip and started her decent did she feel the intense heat of fire behind her back. Astrid did her best to steer herself in her decent. Despite her previous bad luck, she seemed to have a stroke of good karma as she slid down the side of the black dragon's right foreleg. The blond landed on the ground and took off in a stumbling run. She barely got five feet before she attempted to turn and fell onto her side. Astrid felt out of breath for some reason as she pushed herself up onto her feet again. She looked up to see if she had any openings to make a run for it.

Astrid would later wish she hadn't.

Staring right down at her was a pair of glowing neon green eyes that lacked pupils.

Astrid froze. She couldn't look away no matter how badly she wanted too. Those two toxic green spheres enchanted her somehow. Their eerie glow ensnared Astrid's attention. She didn't notice the occasional flames flickering out of the black dragon's mouth. She didn't notice the fact that the dragon was raising one of his massive forelimbs. She didn't notice that the second source of light was coming from herself. She didn't even notice the gash between the black dragon's nostrils from where her axe had hit it just minutes before. About the only three things Astrid did notice were those two eyes, the distant sensation of feeling lighter, and that her ability to breathe was being cut off.

"_You have something of use to me _. . . " a silky voice purred in her head.

Time seemed to be at a stand-still. Nothing was moving. The only sounds she heard were her own steady breaths and her rapidly decreasing heart rate. Both of which seemed to come to her attention from a distance; as if this was nothing more than a dream. A hollow feeling began to spread across her chest and numb her lungs. Her stomach felt like she had just swallowed several ice cubes whole. Her calves felt like they were made of water, her knees locked in place, yet they somehow continued supporting her. Astrid's mouth was dry and her throat tasted like bile.

Again, the voice in her head whispered.

"_Give it to me . . ._"

While Astrid's physical body was numb, her thoughts were in slow motion. Her mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around what was happening or why. All the blond would do was stare. She didn't know what the voice wanted from her, but Astrid had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't something she was willing to give. And yet she couldn't remember why she didn't want to give this creature something. Those eyes didn't appear to be as full of malice as they had a few seconds ago. To an outsider looking in, it was like Astrid's mind had reverted back to that of an innocent child's.

* * *

He had witnessed it all. He'd seen all of Astrid's miserable attempts to turn the battle around to her favor. It had taken him a few moments to realize who was sitting on the black dragon's back. Initially, he had been overjoyed to see that Astrid was, for the most part, uninjured. The black dragon was just proving to be too much of a pain and the Heartless had strained the fearsome forces of Berk to their limits. So many had been injured and it was impossible to tell how many more were going Kingdom Hearts while trying to protect the isle of Berk. They were leaving the realm of existence to protect their home.

He wanted to help Astrid. He really did. But there was one problem with this; he was being pinned down. Sora was sprawled out on his stomach, one massive clawed forelimb courtesy of Maleficent pressing down on his back. Even though all of Maleficent's attention was locked onto Astrid, she had still seen the older brunette attempting to sneak in from her blind spot. It was a valiant effect, but Sora just wasn't quick enough. Since he thought Maleficent wasn't paying attention, he didn't keep an eye out for the dragon's other limbs aside than her head.

And it had cost him.

With a claw on either side of his neck, digging into his shoulders, Sora was effectively grounded at the moment. His left hand was out in front of him, but his right arm was pinned down to his side by Maleficent's "thumb", rendering the Keyblade out of the picture for the time being. He wanted to call the Keyblade to his left hand, but Sora knew his swings would be terribly off course. Any magic spells he could have thrown held the high risk of hitting Astrid. And from his current vantage point he couldn't exactly do much. Using what little magic he had regenerated, sending Firaga spells around himself had done Sora little good other than burning the ground. He could vaguely hear Spitfire chirping next to him as the little Terror bit, slashed, and head butted Maleficent's clawed toes in a vain attempt to get Sora out from under the larger dragon's weight. What surprised Sora was that Maleficent wasn't pressing her full weight down on him. She had him effectively pinned down, yet all of her attention was focused onto Astrid.

Sora didn't understand it until a good several seconds into Astrid and Maleficent's staring contest. Maleficent's neon green dragon eyes seemed to glow even brighter and Astrid didn't seem to even be making an attempt to look away. The blond's blue-gray eyes glazed over, but from the distance between them Sora really couldn't tell whether or not that was just his imagination playing tricks on him. The brunette felt his blood run cold when he realized some of the flames escaping through Maleficent's opened jaws were becoming semi-solid masses that twirled through the air around Astrid. A few balls of fire flicked too close to the girl for Sora's comfort, but the blond herself seemed indifferent to the whole scene. She just stood there, staring blankly up at Maleficent. He wanted to scream at her to get out of there, but his voice was hitched in his throat. Even Spitfire had ceased in his squabbling for the time being.

Things just seemed to be getting worse by the second.

A light, too bright to be a natural part of the earth, began to make itself known. Sora had to squint in order to keep watching. If his blood was cold before, it turned into ice now! The light was coming from Astrid. From her chest. Sora's pupils dilated drastically as his heart quite literally skipped a beat. The fingers on his left hand dug into the dirt as he tried to pull himself out from under Maleficent. Sora grit his teeth in frustration when he didn't budge an inch. His throat burned from the now semi-toxic air, but Sora managed to find his voice anyway. He took a deep breath and screamed, "RUN!" It wasn't a request; it was an order. An order that fell on deaf ears. Spitfire seemed to have had enough of this as he bounded forward in a few quick leaps, took flight for a short distance, and bumped his head into Astrid's side. The blond barely even moved from the shove. Her body remained as stiff as a board. Spitfire spun around in the air, going behind Astrid, before biting down on the end of her braid and giving it a few tugs. Nothing. Not even a flinch. The flames dancing around Astrid seemed to have a mind of their own as they sprang to life and began to chase the smaller dragon around and away from the blond Viking. Soon Spitfire just had his claws full just trying to stop the toxic flames from hitting himself or Astrid.

Sora's fingers dug further into the soil as he continued to try and pull himself free. He could feel Maleficent's talons digging into his shoulders through his clothing, but that wasn't of any concern for him at the moment. If anything were to happen to Astrid, not only would Sora be deeply upset, but the others as well. Whether Astrid saw it or would admit to knowing it, she meant something to everyone. Especially Hiccup and Birdbrain. And one of the last people Sora wanted to see upset were his friends.

This was not good.

An eager snarl.

A sharp snap.

An enraged roar.

A faint _click_.

One ticked off Mistress.

Sora barely had time let out of yelp in surprise before he felt himself being lifted up off of the ground. He was barely three feet in the air before he was dropped onto his stomach. The brunette didn't even look up as he scrambled to move out of the way should Maleficent decide to stomp her foot back down. He had temporarily lost sight of Spitfire. No sooner did his brain finally catching up with his body did he feel the vibrations from just that, catching Sora off balance and by slight surprise. The sudden shock wave caused him to stumble forward. Losing one's balance in the middle of a fight was bad enough, but to stumble into somebody else was worse. Sora fell backwards from the impact, landing roughly on his rear end. Once again, Sora's mind was slower than his reflexes. The Keyblade flashed to his aide before he was even up on his own two feet again.

But, upon closer inspection, the weapon of light was not needed.

Sitting across from him, not even looking directly at the brunette, was Astrid. Her eyes were downcast. Both of her legs were sprawled out in front of her while her arms were limp at her sides. She didn't move for the longest time, prompting Sora to get up onto his knees and lean forward, oblivious to chaos going on to his right. After a minute, Astrid blinked before slowly bringing her gaze up to meet Sora's.

Again, Sora's blood turned into ice within his veins.

Astrid was looking right at him, but her eyes said otherwise. Her usual stormy blue - gray eyes had tremendously dulled and the two colors mixed together even more with the gray becoming the more prominent shade. The blended colors had spread throughout most of her eyes, leaving little room for the whites to be seen. Where her pupils would have been were darkened pits within the diluted grays.

Sora had seen that look before . . . on Kairi . . . over a year ago on Captain Hook's ship . . .

If Astrid hadn't blinked again, Sora would have not been able to fight the urge to look away. The two continued to stare at each other before Astrid looked away to where Maleficent had previously been. Sora followed her gaze, his jaw only just now starting to come back together.

The black dragon was enraged, swinging her head around like some wild animal. Hanging from the side of her throat, almost touching the back of her head, was a blob of warty browns.

A Gronkle.

"Astrid! Sora!"

Sora nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice, but Astrid seemed unfazed. The brunette bit back his chills and looked his left, seeing Fishlegs coming bounding toward them. Sora could only stare before he could no longer hold Fishleg's gaze and went back to staring at Astrid. The blond's movements were slow, almost as if she were elderly. She looked to Fishlegs, as if only just now noticing the larger boy's presence. The sight of her hollowed eyes caused Fishlegs to jump and let out of a faint squeak in surprise.

"What happened?" Her voice was devoid of emotion. Cold. Empty.

Sora felt like screaming. He wanted to take Maleficent down even more than before. More than anything, Sora wanted Astrid to just snap out of it and hit him for running into her. Even while sitting so close to the leader of the Heartless, Astrid's limbs were limp and her movements lethargic and tiresome. Sora had to force himself to harden his emotions. He turned his attention back to Fishlegs, doing his best not to let his emotions overrun him so he could get his point across. "Fishlegs, take Astrid back to Berk. Keep an eye on her until I get back." Fishlegs jumped again, coming out of his trance-like staring contest with Astrid. The blond boy looked down at Sora as the brunette hauled himself up to his feet again. He managed a stuttering, "Wh-what's wr-wrong-g w-wi... with her?" Sora chose not to look at Fishlegs as he approached Astrid. Going against what he knew she would normally find annoying, the brunette Keyblader bent down and carefully pulled Astrid up onto her own feet. Her legs wobbled before Fishlegs caught her by her other arm, leaving the two boys being the only things stopping gravity from overtaking her weak knees.

Without another word, Fishlegs dropped the mace and shield he had been previously carrying and, knowing this would likely land him in the medical hut, scooped Astrid up much like someone would a newborn baby. The larger boy stiffened, expecting Astrid to snap and deck him between the eyes. But Astrid just felt like dead weight in his arms. Her muscles were lax as her eyes just kept on staring off into the distance. His lower jaw dropped and Fishlegs lifted his gaze to look at Sora. The brunette wore a sad expression that he could no longer hold back from anyone. Spitfire had returned, taking up his usual roost on top of Sora's head. The brunette's expression hardened for a split second before the facade was dropped once again. He knew Fishlegs wanted answers. Answers Sora hoped weren't true. "I'll explain later. Just get her somewhere safe." Sora turned, slinging the Keyblade over his shoulder and preparing himself to make Maleficent pay. But he stopped before he even took two steps and looked back to Fishlegs. "Please don't tell Hiccup. It's my fault, and I'll tell him myself when I get back." Fishlegs just stood there, cradling Astrid and still waiting for the blow he had a sneaking suspicion would never come.

"Sora . . . You gotta tell me . . . What's wrong with her?"

Sora hadn't even taken another step before he froze at the question. He looked back to Fishlegs, this time by completely turning himself around rather than over his shoulder. The sad expression that he was wore was making Fishlegs's skin crawl. "I think... I think Maleficent tried to take Astrid's heart. But when Horrowcow attacked, Maleficent lost her concentration and Astrid's heart reacted by locking itself to stop the assault from ever happening again." In other words, she was there mentally and physically. But the emotional aspects of Astrid were missing. Or, for lack of better words, "locked away". It was probably like being a Nobody without having to go through the process of getting yourself ripped in two. Meaning there wasn't a Heartless counterpart nor an actual Nobody.

Hearing this, Fishlegs started to wish he hadn't asked. He felt his grip on Astrid tighten. The blond he was holding didn't respond. She just continued to stare blankly ahead. "Can she be fixed?" It was odd to ask such a thing about a person rather than a weapon or a house, but Fishlegs didn't care about his grammar at the moment. Sora attempted to have an encouraging smile, but Fishlegs could see right through the sad grin. "Once Maleficent is gone, I'll do whatever I can to make this right. I promise." This gave Fishlegs little comfort, but he knew there was nothing that could be done at the moment. With the dragon still at large, this could happen again to somebody else if they drew to near to the black monster. But Sora had previously stated that he had fought this creature before, meaning it was logical to believe that Sora was the only one who could bring the dragon down. "If Hiccup asks, I'll have to tell him you know." Sora's shoulders stiffened, and not because Maleficent let out another ear-splitting cry. "Fine... But please tell him I'm sorry if he reaches you before I can get to him." Feeling ashamed of what he had let happen, Sora turned around and took off running for Maleficent, leaving Fishlegs and Astrid behind.

As Sora charged downhill to face the beast that had done this to their friend, Fishlegs looked down at Astrid. Her expression remained blank while her hollowed eyes continued to stare off into the distance. If not for her slow breathing and occasional blink, Fishlegs would have thought his friend was dead. Though he and Astrid were never close, Fishlegs, like almost everyone else, admired Astrid for her strength and courage both on and off the training field. Seeing her rise again after a tough blow in dragon training gave all them, whether they would admit it or not, a sense of inspiration. All of them, except for maybe the twins, feared the idea of her turning her wrath upon them. She pushed herself until she was coated in sweat and even then she continued to train until her bones broke.

Horrowcow had finally lost her grip on Maleficent's neck, sending the Gronkle careening back down to Midgard. The was a massive gash in the side of the larger dragon's neck, but it was ignored as Maleficent opened her great jaws and released a volley of toxic flames. Fishlegs caught sight of Sora throwing up what looked like a transparent shield around himself, Spitfire already preparing to counter attack with his own flames. He barely heard Sora's battle cry over the roar of the flames surrounding the brunette before Fishlegs heard Astrid mumble something quietly. He looked down at her, but she continued to look ahead like some space-case. Fishlegs took one last long look in Sora's direction before he turned. Horrowcow was already behind him, snorting expectantly. Fishlegs didn't want to leave Sora alone, but he also had no idea where Birdbrain was or if the Nadder would even be willing to offer some assistance to the foreign brunette. Riding on Horrowcow while carrying Astrid would be difficult, but it was far safer than running back through the forest without a free hand to hold a weapon or shield. Biting down hard on his lower lip, Fishlegs eased Astrid down a little to be within the Gronkle's line of sight. "We need to get her to Berk. Okay?" Horrowcow inhaled loudly for a few seconds before she bent down, giving her rider easy access to her leather saddle. Faintly satisfied with the reaction, Fishlegs allowed himself to look back one more time. By now, Maleficent had taken a few steps away from the trio, likely Sora's doing to try and give Fishlegs a better chance of getting out of there safely. He could no longer see where Sora was since Maleficent's back was to Fishlegs. "I'll hold you to that promise, Sora." It was the only thing Fishlegs had to metaphorically cling to by this point. Something he could lean on and hope that everything would go back to normal in the end.

With that in mind, Fishlegs turned back to Horrowcow and began to try and figure out how to make the flight back home with an extra passenger.

Leaving Sora to face Maleficent on his own.

* * *

**Foot Notes:**

• There is a point in KH:CoM that Maleficent explains that she requires powerful hearts to fuel her dark magic. This idea sprouted from this and kinda went off on its own. Astrid is no Princess of Heart, but the idea stuck with me for days. I figured Astrid of all people would have to have a strong heart considering the profession she's going into. And she generally seems to give a damn despite how much she tries to show that she doesn't care throughout more than half of the movie. The fact that she tries to hide her true feelings actually reminded me of Belle in CoM in the sense that she hid her true feelings as well to stop Maleficent from taking her heart. The difference here is that Belle ended up loosing her heart protecting the Beast. Astrid, in my opinion, received a worse fate.

• I was actually thinking about not posting this. But, in the end, I chose to finish it. I'm just mean to my muses I guess.

• Midgard is the name for the world of average human experience according to Norse Mythology.

• It's been over a month since my last drabble. Sorry this one took so long to write.

• The entire end of this was written while listening to the tune of _Sad Princess_ courtesy of the BbS OST.


	7. Favorite Holiday

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

• I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy with college and worrying about a certain Hiccup Role-Player for the past couple of weeks/months.

• This idea popped into my head the other day and, no matter what I did, it wouldn't go away. So I started writing and got more than halfway through it. Then the document I was writing it in crashed, losing more than half of it. Needless to say, I was about to drop the idea completely, but it once again wouldn't leave me alone. So I re-wrote everything for my Role-Playing buddy and I think she was in love judging by the way she laughed at the the outcome and proclaimed to be in a sudden "writing" mood. Needless to say, I feel successful. 83

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_._ _Kingdom Hearts_ belongs to Sqaure Enix, Tetsuya Nomura, and Disney.**  
**

* * *

"What in Thor's name are you doing?"

The question was innocent enough despite the fact that Tuffnut Thorsten was anything but the spokesperson for "innocent". The male twin was having one of his rare moments in life where he actually was freely wondering around, bored out of his mind, and absent a sister. Or rather, it was only a "rare" moment because of the last detail and because he wasn't trying to pull a prank. And he actually was paying attention to the world around him. Neither twin was known for their observation skills or eye for detail. For Thor's sake, Ruffnut didn't even know about his birthmark on his left side until they were going through dragon training. What an ignorant half - troll.

Tuffnut had left the house in the hopes of finding something to do despite the piles of snow that were taller than he was even if Ruffnut was sitting on his shoulders. What he ended up finding was Berk's latest resident running toward the Haddock residence with a roll of the brightest red colored cloth Tuffnut had ever laid eyes on. The brunette had come to an awkward stop once he realized that Tuffnut was addressing him and not the mounds of snow surrounding them. Sora hefted the roll's weight onto his right shoulder. He looked to be in a hurry. "Getting ready for Christmas." The answer was said in a tone that suggested that Sora thought it was obvious. A tone that made Tuffnut think Sora had been hanging around Hiccup too long. A tone that Tuffnut decided needed to be tweeked before the brunette got into any serious trouble thanks to the slightly sarcastic air it gave him. But that would be too much work and Tuffnut was in no mood to fight anybody other than his sister who had abandoned him today for some reason or another. Oh well. Maybe whatever this "Christmas" thing was would work out for Tuffnut's own entertainment.

"What is that . . . ?"

Sora's reaction left Tuffnut confused and nearly wishing he hadn't asked. "Are you serious!" The blond twin rolled his eyes, actually hoping for a subject change in the near future. This was probably another one of those weird things outsiders did that Vikings deemed unimportant or something incredibly stupid. Tuffnut wasn't given a chance to throw in a snide remark before another Viking arrived on the scene.

"And the point in needing sewing needles was . . . ?"

Both boys froze for a split second before relaxing again. Fishlegs stood on Tuffnut's left side with a brown box underneath his arm. His head was covered in an odd woolen hat that Fishleg's mother had recently come up with. It completely covered the top of his head, most of his forehead, and had two flaps that went down the sides that covered his ears. The entire thing was lined with a thick layer of wolf fur and was a light tan color. When the boy had first shown up with the toboggan cap one night while the rest were roasting dinner over a fire, the twins had been quick to poke fun at him and shove it down over his eyes every five minutes. Snotlout joined in on the mockery of his mother's invention soon after. Sora would have jumped the gun and defended the larger boy, but he was learning that was a normal occurance among Viking society and that there wasn't any real ire behind their quibs. So as much as it bothered him that people were making fun of somebody Sora deemed a friend (Fishlegs had been taking the time to teach Sora their language, writing, culture, and beliefs), the brunette had to learn to back off and not get himself involved. After all, he was not afraid of becoming the target of the twins "wrath".

Sora offered Fishlegs a grin. "I'm going to try and make a Santa hat." Sora was by no means a seamstress, but he wanted to get the things together anyway and at least attempt it. At the very least, he could try and pester Astrid or Hiccup into helping him. And, judging by Tuffnut's reaction, Christmas was unheard of around here. Maybe they called it something else. That had to be it! Who could honestly say they'd never heard of Christmas? The idea was unfathomable to Sora.

Tuffnut and Fishlegs exchanged glances before looking back to Sora, each wearing a facial expression equivalent to calling Sora a nutcase without saying a word. Sora, on the other hand, took their stares as something other than calling him insane. "Wait . . . **YOU GUYS HAVE NEVER HEARD OF CHRISTMAS**!" The proclamation - turned - question caused both Fishlegs and Tuffnut to jump. Fishlegs slowly shook his head, almost afraid that he had somehow broken Sora's precious brain. After all, Sora knew far more about the outside world than anyone else in Berk. Tuffnut just snorted loudly. "No Bone-Head. What was your first clue?" While sarcasm wasn't Tuffnut's forte, his sardonic tone was not lost to either of the other two boys. Sora's pupils dilated to inhuman size as he quickly shook his head. "How can you guys _NOT_ know about Christmas?" Fishlegs was quick to try and mend the blunder. The larger blond waved his free hand. "M-maybe we call it something else here! What is Christmas?" Sora blinked several times, trying to comprehend the possibility. The brunette shook his head a little. "It's not easy to explain and I've never heard it called anything else."[/color][/b] Fishlegs and Tuffnut exchanged looks. While Tuffnut still looked skeptical of Sora's sanity, Fishlegs was eager to learn something new. "Maybe we should head inside. I want to hear more." Tuffnut exhaled loudly at this. He was hoping for a means of getting out of his boredom. This wasn't what he had in mind. The male twin shook his head. "Pass. I'd rather watch grass grow." Sora shot the boy a confused expression that to some might have also appeared to be a little on the heartbroken side. But Tuffnut was oblivious and immune to such looks. He turned and walked away from the two, but the back of his vest was caught by Sora. Apparently, the brunette would have none of it. Tuffnut let a few vulgar offenses slip out as he was, quite literally, dragged against his will up the snow covered hill to the chief's house.

* * *

A few hours (and several sheets of paper) later and Sora found himself sitting at the head of the Haddock's kitchen table with five pairs of eyes staring at him. The first, sitting to his immediate right, was Spitfire. He had come down from his sleeping place in the roof rafters over the fire pit to see what was going on with the sudden surplus of visitors in the house. The green Terrible Terror was the only [i]person[/i] present to actually be sitting on the table, his tail dangling off of the side and his head tilted to the side at a curious angle. To the right of Spitfire was Fishlegs, who was busily going over Sora's drawings and little scribble notes scattered across the table as eagerly as a child on Christmas Eve night not wanting to go to sleep because they are waiting for Santa to arrive. The only reason he was even able to decipher Sora's "chicken-scratch" language was because Fish had been teaching Sora's Berk's language in exchange for learning Sora's written language back home. Sitting across from Fishlegs were Tuffnut and Ruffnut. After Tuffnut was forcibly dragged into the adventure, his twin wasn't far behind after hearing the boy's screams and profane oaths. She quickly wanted in on whatever they were doing simply because it was torture for her twin brother. The two were currently arguing over which one would get more coal for being the naughtiest this year. Despite their original disdain toward the "happy" holiday, both latched on the idea of getting coal for Christmas as they apparently saw the lumps of black more of a reward than a punishment as it was intended to be. And on the left of the twins, while not actually sitting on a bench at the table, was Toothless. The Night Fury had stayed home today due to the cold and had spent the entire day up until now just being curled up next to the fire pit. Having something else to pay attention to while Hiccup was at the forge was better than staring at a fire all day, eagerly awaiting his rider's return so they could go flying before the next blizzard hit. Toothless sat on his haunches with his front paws resting on the bench. His expressive pupils were large and round as they scoured over Sora's drawings. Every once in a while one of his ears would flick due to something one of the twins said or did. While he wasn't a big fan of the Thorstens, they proved to be a good source of free entertainment more often than not. Though, aside from that, Toothless held little tolerance toward the pair. And somebody had to make sure nobody trashed the Haddock residence to later blame on Hiccup. The red fabric Sora had pawned off was leaning against the wall behind him. The sewing kit from Fishleg's mother was sitting on the ground next to it.

Normally, bringing other people in the house was not something Sora would have done without permission. But here he was with the twins and Fishlegs, sitting around a table and discussing his favorite holiday. Toothless let out a soft whirring noise, sending the twins a glare after Ruffnut had shoved Tuffnut into the dragon's side. Not wanting a fight between Vikings and Night Fury to break out, Fishlegs quickly jumped in with another question. "So... What's the point in gift-giving?" Sora was about half-way out of his seat when he heard the question. The brunette slowly finished rising from the chair as Tuffnut hauled himself back onto the bench and scooted away from Toothless. "You know how I mentioned they're meant to be given to those who matter the most to you?" Fishlegs and Spitfire nodded their heads eagerly. Toothless directed his attention back to Sora, but it was hard to tell if it was out of not wanting to pay attention to the twins or if the Night Fury was generally interested. This was mostly due to the fact this previously large pupils had narrowed a bit in the last ten seconds. The twins ceased in their quarreling long enough to direct their attention back to Sora as well. "The point is the act of giving a gift; to wish deep in your heart to make someone else happy." Sora was eternally grateful to Sally for explaining that one in a way that it was easy to remember and understand.

Tuffnut didn't look convinced. "So . . . Wait - a - minute. We're supposed to believe that, by being 'good', some fat guy in red is going to come into our house, leave stuff, not take any food, and go without waking anybody up?"

Sora nodded his head.

The twins looked at each other before they started laughing.

Sora would not take this lying down either.

"Hey, I've met Santa! I know he's real!"

"Then why hasn't he come here before?" Ruffnut shot back with her usual cynical drawl.

As for that . . . Sora didn't have an answer for that. But before Tuffnut could throw his own two cents in and potentially start another fight, Fishlegs jumped in. "Maybe Santa's never heard of Berk because there isn't really anybody he might consider 'nice' living here?" It was a plausible explanation, though that didn't mean Sora liked it. Astrid, Hiccup, Fishlegs, most of the dragons, the Elder, and Gobber had been nice to him. Maybe there was too much "bad" going on that it outweighed the nice. It could have been that Berk was too far north, but Santa lived on the North Pole. Or maybe it was because Santa was afraid the dragons would eat his reindeer while he was busy leaving presents under a tree. Or - or what if it was because nobody decorated trees in their house, therefore not having a place to leave the presents? A whole bunch of different possibilities ran through his head, but no matter what the reason the outcome was still the same; Santa didn't visit Berk on the night of December 25th.

Well, Sora was just going to have to do something about that now wasn't he?

* * *

Surprisingly, getting Tuffnut and Ruffnut to work was easy once you found the right bribing material. And, in this case, it was giving them permission to annoy the living hell out of other people. While Sora was normally against such tactics, he needed to keep the twins busy and make sure neither Astrid nor Hiccup found out about what they were doing. So Tuffnut had been sent on his way to pester Hiccup and Gobber at the forge while Ruffnut was out and about annoying Astrid by doing Light only knows what. Sora knew if word got around that he and Fishlegs had requested that the twins antagonize those two, Astrid would kill them both and Hiccup would likely be a complete sour-puss for the rest of the month. Neither outcome sounded fun to Sora, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Okay, Fishlegs!"

As soon as Sora gave the okay, the brunette felt himself being lifted up and set down again on Fishleg's shoulders. They were standing on the steps leading the front door of the chieftain's house. Sora had the butt of a nail between his teeth and a hammer in his right hand. Fishlegs took a moment to balance himself out thanks to the added weight. The top of the doorway was too high up for either of them to reach on their own, so this was the next best thing. And Fishlegs hadn't seemed to mind when Sora proposed the idea to him. "Hold still please." The request wasn't necessary, but Sora felt like putting it out there anyway. His mind wondered elsewhere as he set to work.

This morning had been a little odd. Well, stranger than usual at least. Sora was used to waking up in strange places, but not to listening to other people grumble under their breath and falling off of a roof banister. During the night, Sora had taken notice that something was up even before he decided he wanted to sleep on a wooden roof support instead of on the floor. The brunette had thrown his things up on a low-hanging support beam near the fire before he even realized something was going on.

Hiccup had been grumpy (or at least slightly put-off) by something. When Sora up and asked him what was up, the most he got out of the smaller brunette's mutterings was that Astrid was trying to get him to do something he didn't want to for reasons he didn't completely understand, that Hiccup thought the blond was crazy (nothing new), and something about poking people potentially causing spontaneous combustion. Whatever that was all about, Sora hadn't been able to figure it out no matter how much he tossed it around in his head. Toothless didn't seem to know what was going on either judging by the curious expressions the Night Fury was exchanging with Sora. Stoick hadn't come home last night and hadn't been present this morning either, so there was no way to ask the Viking chief if he knew what was bothering his son. Honestly, Sora had been hoping a good night's worth of sleep would put Hiccup in a better mood. And while his grumbles were toned down a bit, the shorter boy still seemed bothered by whatever it was that Astrid had said or did. All Sora could do was hope that it wasn't severe enough to damage Hiccup's friendship-turned-relationship with Astrid.

Sora didn't snap out of his thoughts until he felt the hammer collide with his thumb. The brunette yelped and threw the hammer behind him, popping his thumb into his mouth. He sucked on it for several seconds before examining his handiwork. The nail was crooked, but it would do for now. Satisfied, Sora gave the all-clear and Fishlegs eased him back down on the steps next to him. The two looked up at their work. Fishlegs was confused at first by the sight, but he figured this had something to do with Christmas and that Sora would explain it to him once they were back inside while waiting on the ham roasting over the fire to be finished.

"**RUN FOR IT**!"

Before either boy was given a chance to react, they felt Ruffnut barrel between in them in a desperate attempt to get inside, all the while howling with mirth. A sharp, shrill screech reached their ears soon after. Sora and Fishlegs exchange terrified looks before taking off inside after Ruffnut. There was no mistaking those angry cries for anyone other than Astrid Hofferson. And no sooner did they get inside did they see a the blade of an all too familiar battle axe sink in so far into the thick wood of the front door that at least three centimeters of it was sticking out on the inside. The three took the small window they had to arm themselves. A wooden board was put into place across the door to help keep it shut. Fishlegs had an iron cooking pot slamming on top of his head since he had left his Viking helmet at home. He had a shield in in both hands as he pressed his broad back against the front door. Ruffnut came in on his right side. She had her traditional helmet on, but she was also wielding a long wooden spoon in one hand and a metal fire poker in the other. The female twin had her shoulder shoved up against the door for good measure. Sora came in right after on Fishlegs's left side. His right shoulder was shoved against the door while he held the Kingdom Key Keyblade by the handle in both hands. What made him stick out even more amongst the three of them was that he had a Viking helmet on his head. And not just any helmet either. Somehow, in his fit of frenzy, Sora had grabbed Hiccup's "Breast Hat" and put it on his head without even thinking twice. It was an awkward fit due to his head spikes, but Sora wasn't about to complain about head protection now of all times.

Seconds later, there was a powerful slam on the other side of the door. It was far stronger than what they were expecting from somebody as lean as Astrid and Sora was nearly thrown off balance as a result. The only reason he didn't go flying was because Fishlegs had thrown an arm behind both Sora and Ruffnut the second the impact hit, succeeding in holding them in place despite the brute force being brought down upon them. Sora let out a yelp out of pure surprise while he felt Fishlegs stiffen up next to him. A tall, dark shadow crossed his line of vision, drawing the brunette's attention upward. A pair of glowing green-yellow eyes with wide pupils met his. Apparently, during the commotion, Toothless had seen fit to get involved. The Night Fury was standing on his hind legs, leaning forward, and pressing his clawed front paws against the front door. His hind legs weren't as sturdy as his front, meaning all of his weight was being pressed against the door just to hold Toothless up. His long tail was behind him and pressed against the floor boards for extra support. Sora looked down when he felt something brush against his calves. Spitfire had also seen fit to join in their desperate attempt at safety as the Terrible Terror stood on his hind legs and pressed his spine against the door. The green dragon's tail coiled around Sora's ankle as an extra measure.

There was another slam at the door. This one wasn't as powerful as the last, but it still took all of Sora's strength in his legs just to remain upright. Toothless let out of soft, almost strangled gargling noise while Spitfire made some sort of twittering noise that was possibly the Terrible Terror's equivalent to "I'm-Scared-Out-Of-My-Mind" yelp. Fishlegs started muttered off some statistics about their chances of survival while Ruffnut was cackling with laughter like some sort of witch. "What did you tell Astrid to make her so angry!" Sora felt another shove against the door, causing Ruffnut to continue laughing rather than answer his question. This wasn't how Sora expected to die. He was expecting old age or some heroic death at the very least. Not beaten to death by a girl almost two inches shorter than him with anger management issues for something he wasn't sure he was being accused of doing, saying, or thinking.

And then there was silence.

Aside from Ruftnut's laughing that is.

"Oh I'm hurt! I am very much hurt!"

All five occupants within the Haddock household froze. That was Tuffnut. Ruffnut had gone off to pester Astrid, who was now on the other side of the door trying to kill them. Tuffnut had been sent out to annoy Hiccup. So if Tuffnut was here . . . Where the heck was Hiccup?

Sora, Ruffnut, and Spitfire bolted for the nearest window, leaving Fishlegs and Toothless to barricade the main entrance alone. Sora felt Ruffnut shove him over in their frenzy to see what was going on. Spitfire landed on the end of the window sill and leaned as far forward as gravity would allow him to without falling. Sure enough, Astrid was still standing at the top of the steps in front of the door. Said door was covered in deep battle scars thanks to a certain double - bladed battle axe. Lying discarded in the snow, likely along with the hammer from earlier, was Tuffnut's horned helmet. The only other indication Tuffnut had once existed there was a pair of boots sticking out from a snow drift several feet away down the hill. Ruffnut cracked up laughing once again, drawing Astrid's wrathful eyes upon them. In that moment, Sora felt two strong emotions; fear for his well-being and utmost respect for Hiccup for willingly being in a relationship with Astrid and going this long without losing another limb. The brunette barely noticed Hiccup coming up the hill toward the house, likely wanting to know what was going on and why Tuffnut had been sent to bug the crap out of him for almost one hour.

Astrid took one step closer toward the window, her right fist was wound into a ball while her left hand started to crack her knuckles. "Wait-a-minute! Before you kill us, look up." The blond paused for a second, the closest thing to puzzled crossing her expression. Astrid just stood there, but eventually decided she would amuse her prey before breaking their necks. Her blue-gray eyes traveled upward, seeing the oddest thing hanging from the front door frame. "That's mistletoe," Sora continued to explain while silently gesturing for Hiccup to venture closer with one of his hands while his eyes never left Astrid. Hiccup likely didn't know where this was going, but after a few seconds of silence and likely realizing that Sora wasn't going to continue until he got closer to Astrid, the smaller brunette shuffled a little bit closer. Satisfied that they were finally getting somewhere, Sora continued. "It's a Christmas thing. When two people are standing underneath mistletoe, they have to kiss each other." Letting that hang in the air for a moment to sink into everyone's brains, Sora pushed on by adding, "And I'm not opening that front door until you two kiss and make-up." Whether Sora was aware of the fact or blatantly chose to ignore it, Astrid could just as easily walked away from the situation and go home. But Sora was confident that Astrid wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did. Then again, she likely also knew that Sora wouldn't be able to leave Hiccup out in the cold and Toothless wouldn't allow such mistreatment of his rider. "And before either of you ask, I didn't tell either of you I was planning on doing this." As soon as Sora said this, he had to duck down as Tuffnut had made a run for it and dived into the window, narrowly missing smacking into Toothless or Fishlegs. Ruffnut crowed with laughter once again while Toothless rolled his eyes at the sight of Tuffnut hugging the wooden floor boards.

Every Viking knew the story behind mistletoe. Baldur's mother was the Norse goddess, Frigga. When Baldur was born, Frigga made each and every plant, animal, and inanimate object promise not to harm Baldur. But Frigga overlooked the mistletoe plant - and the mischievous god, Loki, took advantage of this oversight. Ever the prankster, Loki tricked one of the other gods into killing Baldur with a spear fashioned from mistletoe. The demise of Baldur, a vegetation deity, brought winter into the world, although the gods did eventually restore Baldur to life. After which Frigga pronounced the mistletoe sacred, ordering that from now on it should bring love rather than death into the world. Happily complying with Frigga's wishes, if two people meet by chance beneath a mistletoe in a forest, they would laid down their arms and maintained a truce until the next day.

By now, Fishlegs and Toothless had wondered away from the front door to peek out of the window. Astrid turned her back on them (and the door) to stare Hiccup down. Without any sort of warning, the blond reached out, grabbed a fist-full of the smaller boy's shirt, and yanked him in for a quick, almost clumsy kiss on the lips. Astrid pulled back and cracked a small smile at the sight of Hiccup's lopsided, dazed look on his face. It was likely the first grin she had made all day judging by Hiccup's mood last night. Ruff and Tuff let out harmonious whistles while Sora slapped a high-five with Fishlegs. Spitfire got up and flew around in circles. Toothless warbled in a pleased manner as his pupils widened once more.

"That's for not scheming behind my back."

Satisfied that his plan had worked out according to plan, Sora moved away from the window sill, careful to avoid stepping on dragon tails, and he moved the wooden board-turned-latch off. On the other side of the door, Astrid's grin twisted into a near demonic smirk. The second she heard the plank moved away, the blond leaned back and kicked the door with all of her might and weight put behind the impact. The door flung open and collided with Sora, causing the lanky brunette to be sent flying backwards. He landed roughly on the stairs leading to the upper floor of the house. The Kingdom Key clattered to the ground and vanished in a bright flash of light. Hiccup's Breast Hat, which had previously been on Sora's head, was sent flying and smacked Tuffnut on the head. It bounced off of his noggin and landed on Fishlegs. Thankfully, both of them still had on their protective headgear. The Breast Hat bounced one more time and landed on Toothless's head lopsidedly, almost literally hanging from his right ear. The Night Fury shook his head, sending the helmet flying one last time. The Breast Hat landed on top of Spitfire's head, causing the green Terrible Terror to let out a sharp screech and run into a wall, causing a chain reaction of chuckles to take effect.

Astrid manage to silence the blissful laughter by stomping her foot as she took a step into the house. Her eyes were narrowed once again, her hands on her hips, and a near teasing smirk pulling on her lips. "And _THAT'S_ for being a conniving little sneak." Sora blearily lifted his gaze to look at the blond. He gave a slight grin and gave her a thumbs up gesture before sliding off of the stairs when he tried to roll over. Astrid crossed her arms and shot Ruffnut a look. "I'll deal with you later," she snarled as her previous smirk left her face.

With that concession out of the way, Astrid approached Sora. She squatted down next to him and, with about as much warning as she had given Hiccup earlier before kissing him, Astrid quickly (and rather violently) poked Sora's chest. The brunette sputtered and flailed his arms for a split second before they fell to the floor limply. Astrid poked him again and again on the ribs and his sides. Satisfied for some odd reason, Astrid stood up and looked back to Hiccup. "See? I told you he wouldn't explode." As soon as those words left her mouth, Sora let out a mild belch. Within seconds, the twins were cackling with laughter, saying things like "good one" or "could have been better". Fishlegs chuckled. "I give that a 6 out of 10." As Sora began to slowly haul himself back up off of the floor, Astrid turned to retrieve her axe, which was embedded into the thick wood of the front door.

"Now, what's the 'Christmas' business all about?"

* * *

**FOOT NOTES:**

• I did some research on mistletoe and was highly amused by the origins of kissing while standing underneath it. I didn't even know about it until I was finished writing this drabble idea.

• The whole bit about poking was actually a brain-fart between me and my RP buddy. Somebody's gotta break Hiccup into the habit of defending himself and Astrid takes it upon herself to be his teacher. The problem is that he won't comply to anything. She becomes so determined that she eventually lowers her standards far enough to just wanting Hiccup to poke Sora. The problem was that he argued that maybe Sora would explode if he poked him since, in an earlier conversation, we figured that things exploding and Hiccup just go hand in hand. And this was just the result of such a confrontation in my mind.

• **MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY‼**


	8. Like A Dragonfly

**Author's Note:**

• This one is extremely short compared to some of my previous drabbles. But I feel kinda bad for not posting an update in a little while. So here ya go. It's short, sweet, and hopefully isn't _too_ bad . . .

• This takes place sometime after the events with Maleficent. Of which I need to write more about.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_._ _Kingdom Hearts_ belongs to Sqaure Enix, Tetsuya Nomura, and Disney.**  
**

* * *

One small step forward.

Getting closer to the edge now.

Closer to the near endless abyss below.

. . . Closer to freedom.

He took a deep breath, greedy for life - giving oxygen. His chest swelled with excitement, anticipation, and longing. Bravely, he took another, larger step closer to the edge. His heart rate increased dramatically. Right as the tip of his sneaker went over the edge, he lifted both of his arms up at his sides, spreading his fingers apart and tilting his head backwards. A sharp gust of ocean wind bust forth, cascading over his body, tosseling his hair, and sending familiar chills up his spine. Grinning from ear to ear, he relished in the sensation.

The world smelled of a strange concoction of pine and sea salt. Hundreds of feet below, he could hear the churning waves of a temperate ocean. If he inhaled through his mouth, he could taste the salt hanging thickly in the air. Aside from the mixture of emotions coming forth from his chest, he could also feel the faint pricks of claws against his scalp and shoulders. If he followed those sharp tips with his senses, he could hear their owner chirp softly in delight. If he strained his hearing hard enough, he could hear the sound of flared wings beating occasionally against the wind.

Taking another deep, steady breath, he opened his deep azure eyes to see the clear sky overhead. If he was a resident of this massive island, he would know seeing such a open sky so late in autumn would be nothing short of a miracle. He looked further up to see a wide, tan chin attached to a slender neck. The dragon had his back legs placed firmly on his shoulders, his back claws digging into the shoulder pads of his jacket to support himself. The Terror's front legs clung to his hair with firm yet gentle claws. A long tail had snaked its way beneath the back his jacket and wound loosely around his upper torso just beneath his armpits. The forest green dragon perched on his head had become a familiar sight to him, and he dreaded the day he would have to leave this world and its inhabitants behind. He knew he could not take the Terrible Terror with him. Who knew how many rules he would be breaking if he ever did such a thing.

His wide grin softened at the thought. His arms dropped back to his sides and he subconsciously took a step back, away from the edge. The dragon adorning his skull tittered softly, adjusted his grip, and craned his neck down to look down at the boy. The brunette's azure gaze shifted to the side to look at the dragon's round golden eyes. The Terror's encouraging gaze held his for several seconds before his smile came back to it's former glory. He didn't understand how, but the little dragon always seemed to have an answer despite not being able to speak to him.

"You ready, Spit?"

The little Terror trilled excitedly. Taking this as a "yes", the boy took a steady, deep breath before taking that final step toward the edge once again. He spread his arms out at his sides and allowed the gentle sea breezes to wash over him like before. His knees bent as a particularly powerful gust blew past him as if he wasn't even there. Some would feel insignificant before such a massive body of water. But here, facing the ocean with his eyes closed and his face toward his namesake, he felt at home. Taking one last deep breath, he took the impossible step forward.

And he began to fall.

A look of pure glee crossed his face as gravity took a firm grasp onto his being. Hundreds of feet below were jagged rocks and monstrous waves. But he didn't care. Both of his arms were pressed against his sides as he plummeted face-first. The Terrible Terror continued to cling to his head, his entire body pressed against the boy's head and wings tucked in tightly against the rest of his body. It was nothing short of amazing that the little dragon put so much faith in the foreign brunette after only a few weeks of knowing each other.

About halfway down the high cliff-face, the boy flipped himself in mid-air so that his back was facing the rocky cliff wall rather than his stomach. The pair was gradually gaining speed thanks to gravity's tight pull and their aerodynamic positions. Two thirds of the way down, and the boy opened his eyes again. Deep, happy blue met raging crystal waters. Merely a few seconds before a bone shattering impact, the brunette flipped himself once against and, using a bit of magic to use Glide, propelled himself forward horizontally, almost perfectly parallel with the ocean's surface.

The waves that crashed against the sharp rocks sent sprays of water up, hitting both the boy and his dragon companion. The two let out cries of overwhelming excitement as they careened forward through the salty air. One sounded eerily like a series of small, sharp bells that oddly mixed in with the others tenor notes of blissful, unconcerned wonder. Their cries cut through the air over the sound of the crashing waves as if the raging ocean was nothing more than a quiet sneeze.

Once the pair was clear of the sharp rocks, the brunette gradually pulled his arms away from his torso a little bit to slow down their pace. They were close enough to the ocean's surface that he tilted himself onto his side mid-Glide and ran his right hand through the water, letting the cold salt water rush between his fingers as he went. The Terrible Terror chirped excitedly and extended his slender neck to run one of his horns through the water as well.

After a minute or two of this, the two righted themselves again. They looked directly ahead of them, seeing a massive towers of ancient rocks coming upon them at a rapid pace. A smirk danced across his boyish face while his reptilian passenger tightened his grip and growled softly with anticipation. The two continued on their direct path as if they were confident they could pass through the rocks like they were made of nothing but air.

And right before impact, the brunette spread his arms and tried to perform a back - flip so that he was _gliding_ feet first. The second the bottom of his sneakers touched the rocks, he took off running in a full on sprint on a near completely vertical climb. He pumped his arms furiously at his sides, knowing if he didn't reach the top soon, he was going to plummet back toward the ocean. He passed several small nooks, holes, and small jutting rocks. At first, he thought the sharp chirps and hisses he was hearing was the Terrible Terror still clinging to his head. Had he been paying more attention, he would have known differently.

Thankfully, he had been running fast enough that by the time he reached the top, he had enough momentum left over from fighting against gravity to kick off cleanly without the risk of slamming his head against anything. With his back toward the ocean, he spread his arms and legs as wide as he could, closed his eyes, and just let himself go. He barely heard the Terrible Terror's concerned chirps before they morphed into more gleeful notes. The brunette angled himself to fall face first once again and began to spin with his arms pulled back toward his body. His eyes opened once more to be greeted with not only deep blue rapidly coming to meet him, but several pairs of golden eyes. At first, he thought he was seeing double. But several of the amber eyes were set into crimson red, radiant yellow, leaf green, or faint blue scales. Grinning excitedly, the boy cried out joyously as the small pack of Terrible Terrors spun and fell along with him. The one forest green one that had been clinging to him the entire time almost released his grip to join his kind, but he remained in place behind the boy's head.

Gradually, the spinning stopped. Right before being smashed in the face with icy cold salt water, the brunette righted himself and once again released a little bit more magic to initiate his Glide ability again. The flock of Terrible Terrors remained on their heels. Some flew ahead of them while one or two flew on either side of the odd pair. They continued at their moderate pace before the ocean came a little too close for comfort. The brunette took the initiative and purposely angled himself to dive into the chilly embrace of the sea. Its icy clutches seized his limbs and nearly caused his heart to skip a few beats. He wasn't planning on such a cold encounter for the seas back home were warm and soothing to the skin. His dragon companion held fast despite the sudden change of plans. A few seconds in (and several feet down) the brunette kicked off, breaking the surface of the water with a foolish grin on his face. He instantly broke out into a fit of laughter, his dragon companion nowhere near as amused. It was a strange sensation to laugh while your chest felt constricted from the cold. The small group of Terrors flew around in circles over their heads before taking off toward a cluster of boulders sticking out of the ocean not too far off. Not missing a beat, the brunette swam after them.

The rocks were slippery and hard to cling to, but after a few failed attempts and several splashes later, the boy and his dragon sat on top of the highest boulder. Some of the Terrors from before splayed out on the rocks, enjoying the warm rays of sunlight while they still could before the frigid winter winds were bound to sweep them away without mercy in the coming days.

This whole excursion had been to try and clear his mind. The boy was homesick, longing for the hot summer days and warm, white sand between his toes. He missed going fishing and catching nothing but debris and chasing sea gulls up and down the beach while another friend harvested their eggs. But, most of all, he missed those friends. He missed sparring with his best friend and goofing off instead of doing chores. He longed to pull some pranks on the adults, causing general mayhem for his mother, being shoved off of the docks at random, and burying his friends alive in sand while they slept on the beach.

Don't get him wrong; he liked Berk. The place was full of a slew of differing characters. Ruff 'n Tuff were great little tricksters that, if he ever got the chance to channel their energy and not try and pick a fight with him, he would love to pull a prank or two with them. Fishlegs' curiosity never ceased to amuse and intrigue him. And the larger boy was so interested in dragons and the Keyblade that he was more than willing to just sit down with him and tell him everything about dragons while he informed the other boy about the Keyblade, the monsters he had slain, and the places he had been to. Snotlout, if the two ever settled their differences due to their contrasting opinions over the Jorgensen boy's cousin, would likely be a nice candidate to train with. Snotlout's had a lot of ambition and confidence, but lacked in the skill department. Gobber was a real character. The one-armed, peg-legged Viking could weave some interesting tales about his youth and his apprentice that the brunette couldn't help but like the man. He could see why some of the others liked him so much too.

And that was just scratching the surface of what Berk had to offer. Astrid had a fiery temper and more than enough skills required to lop someone's head off. She made an awesome sparring partner to boot. But despite her tough exterior and unwillingness to open up to him, he had witnessed first hand her protective nature. He had a bruise on the back of his left shoulder from where she had socked him for staring to prove it. So regardless of the fact that she wasn't sure what to think of him, he knew he liked her and considered her a friend. As for Hiccup? The brunette could honestly say he liked the other boy. For being short, skinny, and missing a leg, the guy had more energy, enthusiasm, and more curiosity than should be legal. It was a miracle Hiccup didn't explode simply for standing still for more than three seconds due to pent up energy and raw brain power. And while most of the dragons either regarded him with suspicion or ignored him entirely, there were three that responded to his presence. Birdbrain the Deadly Nadder was wary of the foreign, but she seemed to be warming up to him at about the same rate as her wrathful rider. Toothless the Night Fury always left the brunette wondering just what the dragon was thinking behind those sage green eyes, but he couldn't help but have a lot of respect for the ebony beast. And then there was of course Spitfire the Terrible Terror, who was currently curling himself into a tight ball on his lap. The little green dragon had to have his nose in everything and was curious to the point it drove a lot of villagers mad. But he loved Spit, mischievous twinkle in his amber eyes and all.

But . . . being homesick wasn't the only thing on his mind.

Taking in a deep breath, he exhaled it slowly through his mouth. His spine slumped forward a bit, his elbows propped up on top of his knobby knees. It was about Astrid. He felt terrible and guilty for the ordeal she and the others were going through. If there was anything he could to fix the situation, he would have gladly taken it. That was another reason he was out here; to escape the looks he was positive the Vikings of Berk were giving him. Like they knew it was his fault and that he should be able to do something considering his title and the nature of the situation.

Flying by yourself isn't anywhere near as fun as flying with someone else.

Spitfire may have been too small to take the brunette flying.

But Sora was not too small to take the Terrible Terror for a ride.

And Hiccup hadn't been lying when he said they got a charming view of the sunset in Berk.

* * *

Foot Notes

• It was a major pain in my ass to write all but the end of it without using Sora's actual name. I have no idea why I chose to do that for this drabble, but I wanted to try something different. Hope it's not too confusing considering Spit and Sora are the same gender.


	9. Accidental Daydreams

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

• This story is a bit shorter than the others. I haven't come up with something "long" that I ended up liking enough to post. Period. I've written quite a bit of short-stories and half-baked plots, but nothing I like enough to post for others to read. So . . . sorry about my lack of prompts/story updates.

• This was just a small attempt at clearing my mind to get me into a writing mood. I could have done more with it, but I'm satisfied enough to let this stand alone.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_._ _Kingdom Hearts_ belongs to Sqaure Enix, Tetsuya Nomura, and Disney.

**

* * *

**

He hated the winter. It was too cold, too miserable, and food became limited. You'd think after moving in with the humans, it would be so much easier to get a full belly. If anything, it made it slightly more difficult. Sure, if they didn't feed you, you could always go out and get your own meal. But in this cold it was a far harder task to partake in. This was made even more so when you're barely the size of a bobcat. A flying, fire-breathing bobcat, but that was besides the point being made here.

The point was that, plain and simple, Spitfire _HATED_ the long winter months.

Being small had some advantages though. He could get into smaller places the other dragons could not, he required less to feel full, and Terrible Terrors were so low maintenance when compared to their larger cousins that some Vikings had a small colony's worth of the little sharpshooters living up in their rafters. The downside to being so small was that he generated far less body heat than the larger dragon breeds and people were less likely to take him seriously. He was generally fine with the latter, but the first one was the key reason that he loathed the winter solstice. Being buried alive in snow didn't sound pleasant in the least. And being so cold that if he shivered just right that all of his scales would potentially fall off was even less of a desired mental image. Just thinking about it caused the little green dragon to shiver despite being in his favorite sleeping place.

If there was one thing Spitfire loved more than a full belly, it was when his keeper had a full belly. Not because it meant Sora was going to continue living (although that was a plus) but because if Sora's stomach was full, then it was going to generate even more heat than it normally did. The brunette had gotten out of _bed_ just long enough to grab a few bites of breakfast before passing out again. Spitfire really loved that the boy slept like a rock and could sleep for upwards of ten or more hours without feeling any of the groggy repercussions that usually came along from getting so much sleep at once. Sora would then turn himself around and wear himself ragged throughout the course of the day between sparring with the wild blond girl, running errands around Berk to keep himself busy while the chief's offspring worked all day, and pulling pranks with (or against) the eerily similar blond Viking siblings.

Snorting at the thought, Spitfire adjusted his back legs to a more comfortable position and listened to the gurgling of Sora's stomach. While most people sought their dragon companions out for warmth, the role was in reverse in their relationship. While most people rode their dragons to the skies overhead, Spitfire rode Sora's head around town or on one of the boy's strange gliding excursions. While most dragons felt protective of their chosen human companions, Spitfire felt protected by Sora. But make no mistake, Spitfire was still as possessive of his human as any other dragon.

And Sora had some strange sleeping habits. While he normally slept on the floor next to the firepit, for some odd reason, the brunette had decided he was going to sleep on his back on a wide horizontal wooden beam next to the dying fire. Thankfully, Sora seemed to have enough since even in his sleep not to roll to the side and potentially be set on fire. His right leg hung off of the side. One of his three blankets had already fallen, left forgotten on the floor. His left arm was behind his head, acting as a makeshift pillow since he had forgotten to bring the actual one up on the beam with him after eating some breakfast. He was laying on top of one blanket while the other was wound up and laying haphazardly over the lower half of his body. His right arm was across his chest since he'd originally been sleeping his side and rolled onto his back at some point during his _nap_. Sora's mouth was open, causing him to make the occasional snoring sound while a bubble of what was most likely snot coming out of his left nostril was inflating and deflating with every breath. On some nights, Sora could snore loud enough to rival Stoick the Vast. Sometimes it seemed like their snoring was echoing one another. Thankfully, Sora didn't snore anywhere near as frequently as the Viking chief and was more prone to his unconscious muttering late at night.

Even in his sleep, Sora still mumbled and would occasionally shift around. Spitfire was still learning when a certain muscle was becoming tense which body part was going to move as a result of the pent of energy. Spitfire wasn't complaining though when he felt the boy's calloused fingers dance down his spine while his nails raking against his small scales. The Terrible Terror crooned in a pleased manner as he stretched his front legs out before him before going limp on the boy's stomach once again.

Despite it being winter, Spitfire was in paradise.

At the moment, the pair were the only two in the house. Stoick was off doing chief related things, Hiccup had left just a few minutes ago to head off to the forge, and Toothless had left along with him to make sure he got their safely. Depending on how cold it was outside would determine if the Night Fury would remain outside of the forge today or head back to the house until it was time for Hiccup to come home. As far as Spitfire knew, Astrid wasn't going to come by and make use of Sora's combat skills for sparring practice. None of the other Terrors around town really cared for Spitfire, so it wasn't likely that they would bother him. Meaning they had the entire day to sleep and Spitfire could enjoy the warmth of a human's full belly.

He was about to doze off to sleep again when Sora started mumbling again. While Spitfire didn't understand most of the words the boy would grumble while lost within the realm of dreams, he did catch a word or two every once in a while. The boy normally dreamed peacefully enough too. Sora's right hand jerked away from Spitfire's spine and went over his head. He was almost expecting to see the boy's key-shaped blade to appear, but instead the hand fell over Sora's chest and his finger wrung themselves into the fabric of his shirt. Spitfire watched curiously as a bright light went off. Not knowing what was going on or why, Spitfire sat upright on Sora's stomach and chirped curiously. The light was as bright as it was brief. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Spitfire dismissed the whole thing as nothing more than a fluke or a figment of his imagination before getting himself situated comfortably again to await the tender pull of sleep.

Alas, those plans were thrown out the window when Spitfire felt a rather violent vibration go through him. Fearing the sensation had come from Sora, Spitfire sat upright again and leaned forward to examine the boy's face. His snot bubble from earlier was still present and he looked as dazed as he always did when lost within his dream's hold. The Terror quirked a scaled eyebrow and tilted his head to the right. Spitfire made a curious whirring sound as a small attempt at waking the slumbering brunette. But that was like trying to move a boulder with a small water gun; useless and wound take a long time before you saw even the tiniest of results.

A rapid, foreign chatter went off next to the dragon. Spitfire blinked several times before turning his head to come face-to-face with something blue, black, and fuzzy. The Terrible Terror gave an alarmed squawk as he fell onto his side on top of Sora's stomach. Spitfire wasn't given much time to pull himself back up again before the blue thing turned its wedge-shaped cranium to look at Sora's slumbering face.

Not that it wasn't looking at him, Spitfire could get a better view of the furry monster. It stood at around 3 feet 6 inches tall and was three different shades of blue. It was coated with blue fur, with light blue patches around its eyes, a light blue patch running from under its chin down to its stomach, darker patches on the back of its head and on its back as well. A domed navy round nose rests in the center of the thing's face, The black posts Spitfire had seen earlier was the creature's large eyes that were either solid black or his pupils were so large at the moment that they overtook the rest of his eye. Probably the first option. The creature had clawed hands and stubby legs that have shorter claws themselves. A stubby tail could be seen jutting out of its rear end. His long, rabbit-like ears were pink on the inside and each had a small niche missing in them.

Not sure, or what, this thing was, Spitfire made a soft tittering sound to try and gain the blue thing's attention. And, sure enough, the creature looked over at him as if it was only just now noticing the Terrible Terror's presence. Spitfire was used to that sort of treatment, so he was miffed about being overlooked. But to be overlooked by something that was about the same size as he was was a new one for the books. Whatever this thing was, it grinned at him, showing two rows of small, sharp, pearly white teeth set in a wide mouth. Whether it was a sadistic grin or one of innocent amusement had yet to be determined. "H - h - hi..." Spitfire blinked several times, unsure how the creature could speak the same language as the humans. Unsure of whether or not this creature had ill-intent, Spitfire inhaled slowly, preparing to build gas up in his mouth. The blue creature stared at him, its ears going backwards as it bared its teeth in a snarl.

"What's go'n on . . .?"

Spitfire froze up and jerked his attention back to Sora. The brunette was slowly bringing himself forth from his deep slumber. He raised his head, causing his snot bubble to pop, and blinked slowly. His eyes were out of focus for a few seconds. A silly grin slipped across his face even before the dazed expression wore away. "What er you do'n here, Stitch?" Judging by his slurred language, Sora wasn't fully awake yet. The blue thing, apparently named Stitch, dropped his snarl for another grin that could almost rival one of Sora's. "Stitch here 'cause Sora called for Stitch." Spitfire didn't understand what that meant, but if Sora _called_ for Stitch, then that would mean the little blue fur ball was a friend . . . right? Whatever the case may be, Sora didn't appear to alarmed by Stitch's present.

Sora's groggy smile became a little lopsided as he put his head back down. He put his right arm over his eyes. "Sora sleepy. Stitch play nice." Stitch's grin widened to show his teeth again. Spitfire wasn't sure if he liked that grin or not, but he figured he could at least get more sleep. Stitch looked to Spitfire before hopping down from the support beam with ease. The little blue fuzzball skittered off toward the kitchen, chattering along the way in some language Spitfire didn't understand. The little green dragon looked to Sora's face, shrugged his knobby shoulders, and hopped down from their perch to follow Stitch into the kitchen.

Several minutes passed before a noise split through the air. Sora was a hard sleeper, so the most he did was roll onto his side after a lapse in his snoring. Back in the kitchen, Spitfire was sitting on the table, staring over the edge at a broken clay mug. Stitch had found it and threw it over his shoulder, disregarding the crude pottery as inedible and continued to scour through the Haddock kitchen for a snack or two. Spitfire didn't really like where this was going, but the mischievous part in him that all Terrible Terrors were known to have was eating away at him for a chance at some action. Well, so long as Stitch didn't destroy the Haddock household, then they should be okay.

. . . Right?

Shaking his head, Spitfire flew over to the nearest window and sat down on the windowsill. Stitch wasn't too far behind as he literally climbed up the wall and peeked outside through the glass. As fun as it would be to cause a little mayhem to make the day more lively, as previously explained, Spitfire hated the cold. Spitfire shrugged his knobby shoulders again before flying off to land gently on Sora's stomach again. Stitch watched the little green Terror take off before heading for the front door. He wanted out! Stitch hated sitting around and doing nothing and his temperamental side was showing through. Why would Sora call for him and then fall right back to sleep knowing he was there? Muttering something in Tantalog, Stitch pushed the front door open. No sooner had he done that did he slam it shut again.

Stitch didn't like the cold.

Back in Hawaii, it was always warm and sunny. Snow was not common back home. But he had experienced the snow once before. It was nice, but only with friends. And with Sora sleeping and that weird flying green thing being of no assistance, Stitch was in dire need of something to do.

Grumbling under his breath, Stitch got down on all fours and took off back toward Sora and the flying reptile. But he stopped when he saw a flight of stairs. Lilo's room was upstairs back home. But this wasn't home. But stairs always lead somewhere. Stitch quirked an ear, looked to Sora and the green flying thing, and started up the stairs. They were smaller than the ones back home. And there were a lot more of them on top of that. Still, he knew better than to just barge around somebody's house. Stitch was built for destruction, but he was slowly learning to stave off the urges thanks to Lilo. That didn't mean those urges weren't there though.

The house was so different from Lilo's that it tingled several of Stitch's sharp senses. The air wasn't humid, so it tasted different. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet even if he walked upright like he traditionally preferred. The cold winds outside shook the shingles of the roof overhead. The air smelt of salt, fish, sweat, and something else Stitch couldn't determine. That flying green thing that was sitting on Sora's stomach smelt similar to the new smell, but it wasn't quite the same. Whoever the owner of the new scent was, they currently weren't home at the moment. Stitch just assumed it was another flying reptile thing. Probably bigger than the green one judging by the strength of the stench.

The house did have two human scents lingering within as well. One of them was clearly the dominate of the two. It was a stronger stench and a lot of the things around the house were built for someone of a large stature judging by the massive chair near the stairs. There was a smaller one next to it, but their wasn't a very strong smell coming from it. Stitch climbed into the smaller one and sat down. His ears perked forward as he looked around the rest of the house from his new perch. He could hear Sora snoring quietly. Ignoring that for the time being, Stitch went back to focusing on the rest of the interior.

Most of the house was overpowered by the smell of the largest human and whatever the other flying reptile was. Aside from Sora and his little green friend's smell, there was another stench in the air. It smelt like a mixture of the large man's and the unknown creature. Whoever it was, they were human, so it was safe to assume the large man was somehow related to the smaller human. Probably a parent or uncle. The smaller human's relation with the unknown creature's scent was something Stitch could not determine on scent alone, so he left the subject alone until they returned later today. There was no telling how long Stitch would be here after all.

Stitch climbed down from the smaller chair and wondered back over toward Sora. As much as Stitch wanted to explore the new house, he also wanted Sora to get up. Giving a muted huff, Stitch climbed the wooden support beams with ease and settled down on Sora's right side. Spitfire twittered on the boy's stomach, but soon returned to his own quiet snores upon realizing that the blue creature meant Sora no harm. Stitch wedged himself up against the boy's side, placing the side of his head on top of the boy's arm. The brunette's arm twitched before it wound itself around Stitch's torso. At first, Stitch softly growled at the contact. He only let Lilo hug him. After a few seconds, Stitch's growling ceased. Honestly, he felt too tired right now for some reason to protest. Stitch smacked his lips, reminding himself that he had skipped breakfast this morning, before letting his eyes close. It wasn't long before he too drifted off into the realm of dreams, listening to Sora's rhythmic snores and Spitfire's quiet chirps.

Whenever Sora finally did awake a couple of hours later, he honestly wasn't that shocked to find Spitfire and Stitch sleeping quietly alongside him.

Berk, on the other hand, was given no warning about the destructive little alien and his mischievous ways.


	10. Extraordinary Endeavors

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

• Surprisingly, this was written while I was in a foul mood. I've been hitting a rough spot in my life and I'm currently still working my way through it. I'm not going to give out any details than that. This is a very light-hearted one-shot that I ended up using as a means of concentrating on something else to calm myself down. So, in that sense, I'm more than a little bit grateful to Sora. Gotta love the little guy.

• I am actually in the works on writing a third part to the "Time" drabbles and I've even been considering writing a third one for the whole Maleficent bits. I'm not sure if I'll post them here as the main reason I'm writing them is because my Hiccup-RP-Buddy has mentioned on a few occasions that she would like me to delve further into them. Anyway, the point is that if I were to post either of them here, which one would you want to see more? I would prefer you to send your answer via a message rather than using my review box to answer a question. If you write a review and tack your vote on the end of it, that is also acceptable.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_. KH_ is copyrighted to Tetsuya Nomura and Square Enix._  
_

* * *

He knew he shouldn't, but he just could not help himself. He was curious. Maybe even a little nosy. And, like most children when they're interested in something, especially when it wasn't theirs, Sora just couldn't stave off the urges to at least take a little peek and find out just what his friend was hiding. Just a small one. He couldn't be punished horribly for that. The twins performed worse offenses in plain sight simply for just loitering. Because everybody knew if either of them was standing still for more than ten seconds, something was seriously amiss.

Sure, he had tried to ignore it. Sora had resorted to leaving the house and facing the icy pathways outside. That had only served to dissuade the brunette from his puzzling desires that seemed to come forth out of thin air for a short time. After being pelted in the face with a large snowball by Tuffnut and coming dangerously close to forcibly shoving Snotlout off of a cliff, Sora had lost interest in the fluffy whiteness outside that covered everything in sight. So, when he returned to find the bizarre object of his meddlesome mind exactly where it had been left by its owner, Sora found himself staring at it for a good twenty minutes before he tore his eyes and away and attempted to busy himself.

Unfortunately, Sora was like every other boy his age and therefore had a very small attention span. Being a Keyblade Wielder did not mean he was all that different from his peers.

His second idea for keeping himself busy was dismissed as soon as the idea entered his thick skull. Sora had been banned from cooking after last week's incident that nearly killed him. The whole mishap involved a Firaga spell and being in a house made almost entirely of wood. Surprisingly (at least to him it was), a lot of people were saying Hiccup must have had a hand in the strange occurrence despite Gobber the Belch and Astrid Hofferson's claims that the scrawny Viking had been in the forge at the time. So making some lunch was out of the question unless Sora intended to eat raw fish.

Sora's third solution to the situation wasn't much better than the last. The house was a bit messy, so maybe he could contribute and tidy the place up a bit. Sadly, carting the Keyblade around for nearly two years did not mean he had very much upper body strength. First, Sora tried to move the furniture around in order to sweep underneath them. This resulted in a lot of sweat, cramped muscles, and a bruise on his stomach from attempting to run-and-shove Stoick the Vast's equally massive chair. What the heck was that thing made of! Nursing a slightly sore ego, Sora then attempted to take a whack at the growing stack of dirty dishes. Three guys and two dragons living under one roof added up to a lot of filth despite the fact that any number of them hardly lingered there while they were conscious for more than a hour or two a day. Sora ended up giving up in less than ten minutes after melting down some snow to use as cleaning water when he discovered there was no soap to be found anywhere in the house.

The fourth attempt at a distraction came when Sora considering heading into the town market to pick up some fish. But Spitfire would not tolerate going out into the cold and Sora knew he was going to run into Tuffnut or Snotlout one way another, thus putting him in a slightly sour mood. One highlight about being allowed to stay in the chief's house was that nobody but their chief himself, his son, or his son's dragon were allowed inside to pester you. Granted, Astrid seemed to not know about this rule as she was known to drop by unannounced to _check up_ on Hiccup. Gobber probably knew the rule existed but he blatantly ignored it in a similar fashion that his apprentice did when it came to anything even remotely dangerous to his physical well being. Sora had originally thought Astrid and Gobber were kidding when they teased Hiccup about his apparent clumsiness. Not even three days into his stay in Berk and Sora learned his lesson when Hiccup tripped off of the side of the stairs and landed on top of the older brunette. Bony body or not, a metal prosthetic to the back of the head was painful.

The fifth and final attempt at distracting himself was about as pointless as Sora's five second idea to make some lunch. It must have been a Viking thing or something, but Sora hadn't seen a single bathtub or bar of soup since he'd entered Berk. And, despite being a growing male of the human race, Sora liked to clean up every once in a blue moon. Some back home might say that this was because Sora was as at home in the water as a fish and being away from it for too long would kill him. Two years of traveling made Sora appreciate a good bath when and where he could get it. He could remember there was one time he got a shower in Radiant Garden. He felt like he'd lost five pounds in dirt and grime by the time he got out. But any water Sora could find was frozen and he doubted he had enough left in his current magic reserves to melt enough snow and ice to bathe in the large wash bucket for dishes. It would just freeze again while he was waiting for his magic to recharge and Sora seriously didn't want somebody to barge in while he was taking a bath on the kitchen floor since it was way too cold outside. That and, once again, Sora couldn't find any soap in the house. Seriously, was soap an unheard of substance to Vikings? After going so long traveling the worlds and fighting monsters, a bath was a small luxury that was hard to pass up. Sora was left wondering how the Vikings of Berk bathed in the winter and had no means of receiving an answer any time soon. He made a mental note to ask Hiccup about it later.

All of these failed endeavors lead Sora to his current position. The brunette was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at the object of his mental tribulations. It was rectangular in shape, flat, and no thicker than his wrist. Its dark brown leather covering was scuffed up in places from use. It's binding looked like it could benefit from an upgrade. Inside of the leather covering was innumerable pieces of tan parchment that Sora had learned some time back thanks to Fishlegs was Berk's equivalent of paper.

Sora knew very well what he was staring at. That was the main reason why he was having such a hard time avoiding peeking into the book's contents. Once again, Sora wasn't much different from his male peers. But, in this sense, it was for entirely different reasons. Tuffnut and Snotlout didn't like to read. Fair enough. Sora wasn't a big fan of the activity either. However, Sora was also incredibly curious and therefor wanted to know what was inside of the leather bound notebook.

So what was the problem with sneaking a glimpse inside?

Well, the book belonged to Hiccup.

Sora knew this was so since he'd seen the shorter boy pull the thing out of his vest on a number of occasions.

The first time Sora had ever laid eyes on the leather bound notebook had been when he had allowed Hiccup to getter a closer look at the Kingdom Key - even going so far as to let the other boy hold it. If Sora had known any better, he would have concluded that Hiccup was potentially formulating some ideas involving the mythical sword. All Sora did know was that Hiccup had quickly sketched the Keyblade out.

The book had remained present as Sora informed both Hiccup and Astrid about the Heartless, Nobodies, Organization XIII, and described Radiant Garden. The pair had already seen his Gummi Ship after the rough crash landing and neither of them was foolish enough to think he was from this world judging by his clothing. Sora still couldn't read Berk's language, but he had seen Hiccup scribbling away notes on what Sora was saying, poking in a question every so often, and adding in subscripts to his previous notes here and there. Astrid hadn't seemed anywhere near as interested in Sora's tales as Hiccup did, but the blond did throw in a statement or two every once in a while. Most of which involved jabs as Sora or Hiccup's sanity, but Sora took it in stride and had to stifle his laughter at Hiccup's adamant injections that he was, in fact, in the sane state of mind.

Every once in a while, Sora would catch Hiccup pulling his notebook out and doodling away at something that had caught his fancy. When Sora asked him about it, Hiccup either became too flustered to answer or had somehow gotten Sora to pay attention to something else before the older brunette even realized what he was doing. Just yesterday Sora had spotted the shorter boy drawing again while glancing over every once in a while at Astrid, who was sitting next to him and sharpening her axe. Sora really wouldn't have noticed Hiccup was even doing anything had he not been sitting on the other side of the brunette. He was about to ask about it when he saw the other boy quickly sneak a peek at the girl next to him again before going back to his sketch. Now Sora was known for being slow, but even he could tell what was going on. He chanced a peek over Hiccup's shoulder to see what he was up to and, sure enough, Hiccup was currently doodling Astrid. It wasn't half-bad either. Far better than anything Sora could hope to do. Sora let the incident go unmentioned until later that night when he brought the subject up again by nonchalantly asking Hiccup if he had any issues with trying to teach Sora how to be a better artist. It wasn't until right before Sora was about to pass out that night from sleep that he realized Hiccup had successfully distracted Sora with the prospect of a hot dinner. And by that point the other boy was already snoozing the night away. And Sora hadn't seen Hiccup this morning so he couldn't ask him about it again.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Sora had seen Hiccup this morning. It had been when he was barely awake and the other boy seemed to be in a hurry. It wasn't until several hours later when Sora had gotten more sleep that he was able to piece together just what in tarnation had taken place this morning. From what little Sora had picked up on (and the fact that he'd been woken up a bit later than usual from Hiccup's occasionally violent stumble), Hiccup had slept in for some reason or another and was late to his job at the forge. And, in his haste to get to work, he'd left his sketchbook on the kitchen table. As far as Sora knew, the guy went everywhere with it. The idea of returning it to Hiccup at the forge had crossed his mind, but Sora feared Hiccup would think he'd gone through it after asking for drawing lessons last night.

Yes, Sora wanted to go through the book.

Yes, he was finding it difficult to stave off the urge.

No, Sora honestly didn't think he'd survive much longer.

Several minutes passed.

Slowly, Sora looked around the house, knowing full well he was the only one home. Well, aside from Spitfire who had recently decided that Hiccup's bed was far more comfortable than the horizontal roof support beam that Sora had taken to sleeping on due to the fact that heat rises was not comfortable enough to sleep on when Sora wasn't snoozing away. The little dragon was currently wadded up in a ball amongst Hiccup's blankets on his bed upstairs.

Satisfied that nobody else was around, Sora lurched forward, latched onto the sketchbook, and jerked back into his original position in five seconds flat. A wide, childish grin that spoke of the mischief to come was plastered across his boyish face. There was a twinkle in his azure eyes that was known for spelling doom when in the presence of the Thorston twins. A pencil fell from the book's bindings. Sora stared down at it for a moment before snatching it up and putting it behind his ear. Giddy with pent up excitement, Sora shoved the book underneath his arm as he scrambled into the living room and away from any windows. He plopped down in Stoick the Vast's humongous chair with a lazy plop, pulling his legs up to sit Indian style, and again took the opportunity to peek around the room to make sure there were no other prying eyes to rat him out. Seeing none, Sora snickered under his breath despite himself and flipped open to the first page.

Sora didn't know what the picture was of, but he thought it looked really cool. Since he couldn't read the notes and didn't have a large grasp over mechanics, there was no way for Sora to understand the complicated piece of machinery. There were scribbles here and there. Some parts were marked out with thick lines. In two places there were blown-up, detailed drawings of joints of the device with little notes written hastily next to them. Whatever it was, the idea looked fairly crude and old in retrospect to what Sora had previously glanced at.

Still, curiosity got the better of him and Sora flipped the page. The older drawing was replaced with more intricately composed 2D model of a similar machine. There were some obvious differences when compared to the previous design. This one looked more complicated and more refined while the other looked rough and quickly drawn as if the artist had wanted to get it down before he forgot about it. Made sense. Hiccup sure seemed pretty busy between the forge and people pestering him about his knowledge on dragons.

The first few pages continued on in a similar manner. Ideas for contraption of varying degrees of complexity filled the pages. There were weapons of different shapes and sizes mixed in too. There was a sword that reminded him of Cloud's massive Bustersword. To the right was some doohickey that looked like a slingshot for boulders. On the next page there was a bola with mace balls on the ends instead of heavy spheres. So on and so forth. Sora could only guess as to each ones purpose and marveled at how well each was drawn. Even the more hastily scribbled sketches were more distinguishable than anything Sora could have ever hoped to draw with either of his hands. One thing Sora had noticed some time ago was that Hiccup was left handed. Sora idly wondered if that was why Hiccup was a better artist; Sora wrote with his right hand. He'd have to look into that later and see what happened.

It wasn't until halfway through the notebook that the drawings took another turn all their own. Sora paused on the page before him, staring down at the crudely drawn outline of what Sora had come to know as a Night Fury. Its wings were spread open while its tail was splayed out behind it in a straight line. There was a smudge where the left rear tail fin was, like somebody had attempted to erase it and then redrew it on top of the smear as an afterthought. The image had no shading and did not show the dragon's four legs, suggesting it was an overview shot of the ebony beast. It wasn't the best drawing Sora had seen thus far and the page on the right looked like it had been put through a lot judging by the discoloration near the edge compared to the previous pages. It didn't take a rocket science for Sora to know that the drawing was of Toothless. When that realization dawned on him, a small, knowing smile played across Sora's lips as he gently turned the page as if he was handling a newborn baby.

What lay spread across the two pages before him now was something Sora was used to seeing and therefore recognized it without even realizing it. The difference was that the scribbles for an artificial tail fin were far from refined when compared to the current vibrant red one Toothless sported. And, much like the very first drawing, it just became more detailed as Sora turned the pages. Here he's spy an beautifully detailed picture of Toothless's jade eyes. Right next it he'd see one of the dragon's clawed front feet with special care taken into showing where the scales ceased and the monochromatic stripes toward the back of the limb began. There was a scar running down the side of the foreleg too. Sora had spotted a scar or two on the dragon, but never memorized where they were located. Giving a light chuckle, Sora's eyes roved over the next drawing. The highly detailed image of Toothless's wedge-shaped head took up the entire right page. There was another thin, gray line indicating a scar going down the left side of the dragon's thick neck. It had clearly taken a lot of time to draw and Sora was curious as to how Hiccup managed to get Toothless to sit still long enough for him to draw the picture. The idea of Hiccup asking Toothless to stop fidgeting for several hours made Sora give a hearty laugh.

With every page he turned, Sora found more and more detailed drawings of the impressive Night Fury. Here he seen Toothless curled up in a ball napping like a large cat. Just below that Sora would spot doodles of the back of dragon's head with the saddle directly behind it, suggesting it was what Toothless looked like when sitting on the leather seat. The next page or two would be taken over with elaborate depictions of colossal midnight wings and smaller tail fins that were no less important than the larger appendages. At one point Sora saw two images back to back of Toothless yawning with his teeth and one right next to it of him without his teeth. Another page was full of drawings of Toothless's eyes with his pupils in different shapes in sizes. There were notes below each, leading Sora to think they were character studies of what mood the pupil size helped convey. On another page there would be a drawing of a Night Fury in flight all by itself. Sora didn't understand the meaning behind the picture until he took a closer look at it. There wasn't anywhere near as much detail to it as there was to the dragon, but Sora could vaguely make out the outline of a person sitting on the dragon's back just above the shoulder blades. Even the clouds behind the pair had more details to them than the person's lone silhouette. The sight garnered a soft smile from Sora as he took the time to stare down at it for a bit longer than the other drawings.

A noise drew Sora's attention away from the picture painted in charcoal. Blinking azure eyes looked upward and crashed into vibrant greens tinged with yellow surrounding a pair of wide-set, seemingly endless black circles. Sora stiffened up as his own irises expanded to nearly twice their previous size. A gentle croon of deep bass notes helped the brunette relax as his racing heart finally caught up with his stiff nerves and frozen brain. It was all Sora could do to let out a quiet chuckle to help lighten the mood of his tense muscles.

For someone so big, Toothless sure knew how to get around without so much as making a peep. Or maybe Sora had been too engrossed in the drawings to notice the ebony dragon slither past him to sit on his haunches behind the humongous chair. Upon closer examination, Sora could see the dragon had his front feet hanging onto the top of the back of the oaken seat while his long neck craned down over the back to peer down at the book much like Sora was curled up on the chair's cushion with his back hunched forward to get a closer look at the pictures. The idea that Toothless was as curious as Sora was adorable in a weird way. In fact, now that Sora thought about it, this was closest he'd ever gotten to the Night Fury without Hiccup being present. Keeping this thought in mind and with a renewed smile, Sora got himself comfortable again and turned to the next page, being careful to keep the book's contents open and visible to the rooftop audience. As to why Toothless was at the house when Hiccup was still due to be at work for several more hours Sora hadn't a clue. And he didn't have the heart to question it either.

There were countless images of Toothless dotting the pages. At the sight of himself, Toothless would give the occasional attentive chirp in praise or a soft purr in content. He trilled happily and wiggled around for a bit when he spotted an odd mess of scribbles. There was no way for Sora to know that the jumbled mess of curvy lines that didn't match anything else in the book was Hiccup's attempt at copying down the drawing Toothless had made shortly before he first allowed the boy to touch him on the nose. Sora lingered on the page for a bit until Toothless seemed satisfied with his gazing to let the brunette turn the page without uttered a quiet growl of annoyance.

With only one third of the book left, Sora was more than happy to continue seeing pictures of Toothless. The dragon lingering above his head seemed more than pleased with how much of himself he was seeing dotting his best friend's little treasure. Sora turned the page and spotted something odd. Amongst the seemingly disorderly sketches of a certain Night Fury Sora spotted another familiar face. He had to stare down at it for a few moments before he realized what he was looking at. It was as crudely drawn as the first picture of Toothless. Sora glanced up at Toothless and noticed the dragon was also very interested in the new model. Quirking an eyebrow, Sora was ashamed to admit he couldn't make out much more than something thick hanging behind the person's head and something laying over the their left eye.

Curious, Sora flipped the page, ignoring Toothless's quiet disapproving snarl, and instantly realized just who the person was. Taking up an entire page was a drawing of Astrid from her waist up. She had a stern look about her and narrowed eyes. Her narrowed arms were crossed over her chest. A scowl was present on her face as her shoulders hunched up in what was likely pent up anger. Her brow was knit together in tight concentration. The drawing had plenty of smudges on it as if the artist had spent many hours trying to make it was absolutely perfect. As to why Hiccup would pay so much attention to an angry Astrid was beyond Sora, but he figured it must have been because the blond almost always looked like something was getting on her last nerve.

At the sight of the enraged Viking, Toothless quieted down, tilted his head, and quirked one dragonic eyebrow in a curious manner. Seconds later, the Night Fury uttered a deep laugh that shook the entire chair. Sora felt the bass notes vibrate through his very bones. In turn, Sora laughed along with Toothless, albeit his tenor frequency was drowned out by the dragon's deeper melody and sounded far more nervous than the dragon's obviously amused tune. Once Toothless had it under control again, Sora examined the open page next to the wrathful looking Astrid to find it full of notes. Most were either scratched out in deep, black lines or smudged beyond recognition. Not that Sora could read them in the first place. There was a series of six characters that were constantly repeated and every time they were duplicated they were left alone. In fact, they were the only symbols left untouched on the entire page. Sora could only assume the word held some deeper meaning. There wasn't a way for him to know the six letter word was a name.

The next page was chock-full of sketches and full on drawings of Astrid from varying angles. Most of her expressions were that of anger or of no particular aspect that Sora knew of. Here she wore a prominent frown for the entire world to see. There she was pinching the bridge of her nose in agitation. Over here Astrid was mid eye-roll. Further down the page the blond was pushing her bangs out of her face with beads of sweat peppering her forehead. Taking up a whole page was Astrid mid-swing with her trademark battle axe, standing with her feet spread apart and a determined scowl on her face. There were even lines trailing behind the axe's double-bladed head to show what path the axe had previously been on. Toothless gave a faint growl at the sight, but he quieted down not even three seconds after the sound started.

Taking that as a sign to press onward, Sora flipped to the next page. He stopped despite himself when he saw what lay before him. The sight wasn't unfamiliar to him, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant to see. Even Toothless seemed to be in agreement as he played a soft hymn that sounded far more forlorn than uplifting. Sora could understand why too. He wasn't present at the time of the event, but he knew enough to know why the sight would bother even the hardiest of men. There were only a few, but they existed in the book none the less. The lines making up the sketches were thin and fading, as if the artist was wary of drawing them and wanted nothing more than for the things actual existence to be nothing more than a bad dream. But the object was very real and there was no escaping it.

The carefully drawn pictures of the metal and wood prosthetic started out small, but eventually they grew and morphed into different shapes and sizes. Each one was different than the last and each was likely an idea for an improvement on the false limb. This one looked like it was designed with one of Toothless's massive ebony wings in mind. That one looked like it had a tennis racket attached to the underside of it. The one at the top of the page was a bit too clunky. The one right next to it looked like a chicken's leg. The one below it looked like a pirate's peg leg. The idea of Hiccup with an eye patch and Jack Sparrow's accent caused Sora to chuckle despite himself.

The prosthetic held mixed feelings for Sora. Despite having never even heard of Berk before the incident involving the Red Death, Sora still felt like there should have been something he could have done. Hiccup was his only friend missing a limb. He was less melodramatic that Jack Skellington and was in no way as vengeful as Captain Jack Sparrow. Hiccup lacked some confidence much like Simba and the Beast once had, but with a little practice and a few pushes in the right direction should sort that out in no time. Still, despite his eccentric ways that threw most people off, Hiccup was a good kid. His blunt honesty was usually hidden within his sarcastic comebacks, but it was still there. From what Sora had witnessed, Hiccup was as loyal as they come to those who would just acknowledged and accept his existence. So the idea that something as traumatic as losing a limb could happen to him perturbed Sora on some level. He wasn't naive enough to think that he could bring back the limb via a magic spell, but sometimes Sora wished there was such a thing if only to help his friend out.

Not realizing he'd wondered off into his own thoughts, Sora was brought back to reality when he felt Toothless butt his chin against the top of Sora's head impatiently. Offering an apology, Sora went back to the book. Random doodles came forth and continued onward. Mixed into the cluttered mess were sketches of Toothless, different gadgets, the occasional prosthetic tail fin design for Toothless, and other miscellaneous objects varying from the stars in the sky to the interior of the Meade Hall. At one point Sora could have sworn he saw a drawing of a crude Kingdom Key next to the rapidly scribbled effigies. The Keyblade had a page to itself and was covered in different doodles of varying angles of the supposedly fictitious sword. The page across from it was filled from top to bottom in written annotations of what Sora guessed where some of the things he talked to the younger boy about.

Giving an amused chortle, Sora flipped over to the next page. For some reason, what lay before him now caused the brunette to stare. He'd only seen it a few times, but the sight had never been directed toward him before. Come to think of it, the only times Sora had ever witnessed its existence were when Hiccup said or did something to earn the sight. Sora turned the book sideways since the image before him took up both pages. Had anybody else found the book and leafed through it, they may have seriously questioned the artist's sanity. But Sora could understand the desire to have such a picture of the person depicted on the parchment; it happened so rarely that sometimes even Sora forgot Astrid knew how to smile.

It was a near full body image. It started just below her knees and ended a little bit above her studded headband. Her hands were behind her back and not an inch of her looked on edge. The blond's head was tilted slightly to the left side, causing her bangs to slant away from her face to reveal more of her eye. The right corner of Astrid's mouth was quirked upward in a gentle smile that starkly contrasted with her characteristically fierce scowl. Her braid was visible over her right shoulder and was a little faded to help show that it was behind her. Even Astrid's sharp cyan gaze, which normally looked as cold as a glacier, looked significantly softer. If Sora didn't find such an idea odd, he might have thought Astrid looked beautiful or maybe even approachable. But he knew better. He knew that Astrid was an anti-social as a feral cat at a dog show and reserved her softer side for Hiccup and Hiccup alone. Sora had witnessed it a few times, but he stopped himself from saying anything for fear in intruding. Even Birdbrain seemed adamant on leaving the illusion of tranquility alone. And for some reason the picture made the brunette miss his shining ray of light back home. Sora hoped Kairi knew he was safe.

But despite all of this, Astrid looked a little rough around the edges. It was as if she had just gotten out of a scuffle of some sort. Sora wasn't sure if it was Astrid herself or the way she was drawn that gave her that appearance. Some of the lines were thin and obviously had been drawn with utmost care. These lines tended to be around the blond's face and the smaller details, such as the crease the corner of her upward turned lips formed with her cheek. Parts of her were etched out in normal strokes. These consisted of most of her outline and clothing. Still other parts of her were depicted with thicker black lines. Such marks weren't as common as the other two, but they were present here and there, most noticeably on her metal platted shoulder guards. It was incomprehensible to Sora just why some places required a softer touch and others were regarded with a normal swipe of the hand. But he had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with Hiccup's more than blatantly obvious feelings toward the blond Viking.

"Can't even be trusted to pick up one measly little thing, ya useless bag of scales!"

The threat caused Sora to freeze on the spot. He would know that angry voice even if it was screaming in a crowd at a rock concert. Toothless warbled above his head, clearly not intending to look away from his rider's little creation. Before Sora could even attempt to hide his blunder, the book was yanked from his grasp. Flabbergasted, Sora jerked his attention upward and did his very best not to reach forward and snatch the sketchbook right back.

But it was too late to even try. The picture had been spotted.

Sora had seen many pictures of himself before. But never once had the brunette been given the honor of being the subject of a hand-drawn image that had clearly taken a lot of time to complete. Or at least, _almost_ complete judging by the fact that not everything was shaded in yet.

So, to say the least, Astrid's reaction was almost completely unexpected.

The blond was, at least at first, glaring at Sora for his peeking. But her icy orbs left his darker ones alone to examine the picture the book was opened up to. From there, her scowl only deepened. Sora didn't understand why. Then, as if an electric light bulb had gone off in Astrid's head, her frown left in gradual intervals until her face was nothing more than a blank canvas; empty of emotion and void of any thoughts. If Sora didn't know any better, he would have guessed that Astrid's mind was, for lack of better terms, _drawing_ a blank.

A minute passed.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Sora lost count of time.

And he wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but Sora thought he saw Astrid's face change colors. Her usual pale complexion looked a little on the pink side. At least her cheeks did anyway. Now Sora was by no means a master in the ways of the heart, but he liked to think he knew more than enough to notice even the smallest of things. And right now Astrid looked more than a little the flustered side.

Slowly, almost carefully, Astrid reached up and gently dusted her right cheek with her the tips of her thin fingers. She ceased not five seconds after she felt the touch and blinked several times as if coming out of a deep trance. Astrid couldn't remove her eyes from the picture she held in her hand. A smile, small but genuine, pulled on the right corner of her lips. Her skull tilted to the left side not a split second later. It was almost as if she was attempting to mimic the girl on at the tan parchment. The blond delicately brought the book to a close and crossed her arms, holding the leather bound sketchbook close to her heart.

And Astrid remained standing there, softly smiling off into space and likely seeing things neither Sora nor Toothless could witness.

Then, with deliberate movements, Astrid brought her cyan gaze back to reality to face the darker azure eyes and almost alien jade ones intently studying her. Her grin left her face in an instant, but her eyes remained tender despite her stiffening shoulders. Toothless chuckled above Sora's head. It sounded almost like thunder to Sora for some reason. The brunette gave a toothy smile of his own as he slowly pulled himself out of the chair to stand up. Toothless could be heard behind him pushing away from the back of the chair to stand on his hind legs as he waddled over to get closer to the pair. The ebony dragon sat on his haunches again next to Sora and watched the present Viking with wide pupils and a tilted cranium.

It looked like it took some effort, but Astrid looked to Toothless with a disapproving frown. But, once again, the courteous look in her eyes betrayed her inner feelings. "Hiccup sent you off to pick up his sketchbook and this is how you spend your time?" The blond could only shake her head before she looked to Sora as if only just now noticing the brunette's presence. "And you're no better, you little toad." Sora could only sheepishly scratch the back of his head. Before he knew it, he felt a fist to his right shoulder that nearly toppled him over onto Toothless. The Night Fury grumbled softly in retort, but soon resorted to snickering. However, his fun was short lived as Astrid stood on the balls of her feet and gently swatted the dragon's left ear. Toothless stared at her strangely before he lifted his head up and out of her reach. From there, he continued to chuckle.

With an eye roll, Astrid turned and started to head for the door. She paused before she reached out to open the heavy oak structure to turn around and look back at the pair residing in the living room. "You are so busted," Astrid remarked flatly before wrenched the door open and took off into the cold outdoors.

Sora blinked stupidly for several seconds before tilting his head back to look up at Toothless. The Night Fury barely granted the boy a glance before he took off after Astrid, either purposely ignoring or somehow unperturbed by the freezing temperatures. Sora jerked to attention when he felt the dragon's tail slap against his hip, completely knocking him over. Scrambling to his feet the second he felt the hard wood floor beneath his palms, Sora bolted out of the door, slamming it behind him, and followed after the Viking and ebony beast as the trio cut through the fallen snow to take detours to reach the forge first.

Astrid didn't strike Sora as a tattle-tail, but this was Hiccup they were referring to here. Anything was possible where he and the blond were concerned. At least, from what Sora had observed anyway. They both acted just a _little_ bit different when in each others company.

He didn't know why, but Sora wasn't the least bit worried about getting in trouble.

In fact, he felt a twinge of excitement that only seemed to grow as they neared their destination.

There was no telling just how Hiccup was going to react when he found out that Sora had peeked into his sketchbook. It would be even more difficult to predict how the blacksmith apprentice would handle knowing his best friend had leafed through the book along with the brunette. How the scrawny, russet-haired boy would take to discovering that his crush had seen the picture he had drawn of her was anyone's guess. And it was safe to assume that Hiccup would have a very hard time accepting their compliments on his artwork.

Oh well.

If you asked Sora, it was all worth it in the end.

* * *

**Foot Notes:**

• My second attempt at Toothless. Please forgive and disregard any weird mistakes or descriptions on his part.


	11. Lost Time

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

• This was an idea I got several months ago. I told myself I would never write anything related to it. This is just the first part that came to mind for me, so I felt like getting as much background information in as possible. The idea came back to me while I was watching HTTYD some time ago for some unholy reason. It kept coming to mind every time Astrid came on screen.

• This one has implied character death and should not be taken _too_ seriously. Just a fair warning.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_._

* * *

"Mother of Freyja . . . !"

The oath was muttered tersely under her breath as Astrid jumped over a fallen log and nearly face-planted into a large snow drift on the other side. Running usually wasn't her first option when it came to a chance encounter, but right now she didn't really have much of a say in the matter. Yes, she was the one who willingly made the choice to turn tail and get the heck out of there. But it wasn't because Astrid wasn't confident she could handle the situation. It was because the blond was, for possibly the first time in ages, having to think about somebody other than herself.

And well, she was carrying precious cargo after all.

After her momentary lapse in balance due to the added weight, Astrid took her chances and glanced behind her. Sure enough, she could hear enraged voices and what sounded like several pairs of stomping boots crushing snow. The blond had purposely chosen against following a path and ventured deeper into the woods surrounding what she at one point in her life called home. That seemed so long ago... Brushing those thoughts aside, Astrid sucked in a quick, deep breath with a sharp hiss through clenched teeth before taking off in her intended direction once again.

It was hard to peg just what had started this whole mess. One could say this little skirmish was her own damn fault because she risked being spotted because Astrid had willingly chose to hunt away from her usual grounds. Winter tended to do that to ya. Game becomes harder to find and the bitter cold and snow makes even the most hardened of warriors have aching joints. Another possible reason for her current situation was that the particular group she was fleeing from was also out of their usual hunting range. Hence why she had been surprised to find them and was currently running as fast as her long legs could carry her. The third and final potential cause for this whole thing was the "cargo" Astrid was currently running for dear life in order to protect.

By the gods . . . he owed her big time after this one.

Having traversed and memorized this half of the isle for well over a year and half now, Astrid was more than confident she could get around with her eyes closed. But she dared not to shut her blue-gray orbs as she ducked under to low hanging tree branch and nearly slipped on a particularly hard block of snow. The blond swore another oath under her breath, but never missed a beat nor stopped pumping her legs deeper and deeper in the freshly fallen white powder. Despite her abnormal height for a girl her age, Astrid was nearly up to her waist in the cursed white fluff. Whoever thought snow was pretty was out of their ever-loving minds!

A sharp whistle cut through the air just to the left of her head. Astrid somehow resisted the urge to freeze as she continued to charge on through. She had seen the red plumed arrow that had dug deep into the tree trunk she had previously been facing and she wasn't about to stand around and find out just who had gotten bored enough to learn to use a bow and lacked the balls required to use a short-range weapon. She heard a shout behind her saying something about a "Nadder-Head", but Astrid was far from willing to explain that story.

Astrid could guess this was what a rabbit being hunted by a wolf felt like. The blond looked up to see if she could recognize any of the trees, but the recent blizzard had thrown the landscape in for a new paint job. She could still navigate, but between the new white layers and her rapidly beating heart, it was hard to tell if her judgment in direction was worth putting so much faith into. Furiously shaking her head, Astrid braced herself before sliding down a snow covered hill on her feet. The river ahead of her was normally alive with raging waters, but with winter the narrow hydro highway was frozen over and potentially ten times as deadly. Still, attempting to cross it had a higher survival rate for her than turning around and facing the men chasing after her.

Without even bothering to slow down, Astrid bolted across the snow covered ice. She nearly lost her balance at first, but she kept on going regardless of the fact that her boots were nearly frozen and she currently lacked any form of grip on the thin ice. Astrid was barely halfway across before she heard the first of a series of cracks. The blond could not stop herself from freezing in place this time, but only for a fraction of a second. She could hear the men behind her swearing and was positive she was hearing a bow string being drawn. Panic began to rise in her but she knew if she attempted to swerve to dodge the arrow, she would likely end up face-planting and cracking the ice even more with her face. Swallowing every ounce of energy her body had left within it, Astrid pumped her legs hard and accidentally smashed her left foot through the ice. The blond swore crisply under her breath once again, but at least she had the satisfaction of knowing they had missed her thanks to the arrow embedded into the ice next to her right boot. Astrid yanked her foot out without even bothering to check for cuts thanks to the sharp ice and hauled herself along with her cargo the rest of the way across the ice.

Once she was safely on the other side, she continued to run into the thick layers of underbrush, snow drifts, and frozen vegetation. Astrid knew where she was going now after having found the river. And after ten minutes of solid running on the other side of said river, the blond was confident the men from earlier were no longer chasing her and accusing her of things she was not guilty of.

Gradually, Astrid's pace slowed. The snow was beginning to fall again, but she chose to ignore it. Her entire body felt frozen save for her back and lower arms. She shifted her weight and the weight of her cargo, causing a faint jingling sound behind her. The soft clicking drew her attention for a brief second, but she once again pushed such thoughts aside. She had a goal in mind and nothing, not even frozen feet and a numb body, was going to stop her. It seemed being stubborn had its perks.

Astrid bent her back forward in an attempt to shield herself from the coming winds as the snow continued to fall further. The only thing distinguishing her from the rest of the wilderness besides her laborious movements was the bright blues and yellows of her pelt. That of a Deadly Nadder. Hence the reason the men earlier had been claiming to have seen the beast. Adorning the top of Astrid's blond head was that of the skull of said Deadly Nadder, its bright scales and nasal horn still as vibrant and deadly as they had been in life. Traveling down her spine was the back of said beasty, still attached to its head. Trailing down behind her, and also the source of the previously jingling sound, was said Nadder's long and barbed tail. While the barbs no longer held poison within them, they were still just as nasty and painful to be struck with. The pelt held little use other than to work as a disguise and doubled as a memento to a fallen comrade at the hands of the very same men who had previously been chasing her. Astrid still hadn't received revenge for their deeds, but now was not the time when she had someone else to be thinking about.

Her attire, aside from the Deadly Nadder pelt, was fairly simple and unsuitable for the harsh winter if nothing else. Her boots had been lined with another layer of fur in the fall, but already they were falling apart due to wear and tear. Her spiked leather skirt was proving of little use in this harsh environment. She had on two pairs of pants and even that wasn't doing her lanky legs any good. Her protruding ribs due to a lack of a steady diet were poking through the layers of fabric that made up the long-sleeve, faded teal, men's tunic and ratted out coat that fell down to her ankles in the back. The jacket (if you could even call it that) had been made from discarded strips of cloth and sewn together, making it appear miss-matched and multi-colored. The fur lining of said coat had long since been torn away due to various circumstances that were not worth mentioning. Her arm wraps had been replaced with thicker strips of multi-colored stray cloth, but they were doing her little good. Astrid's leather headband had also been replaced with a wider, darker strip to keep her bangs out of her left eye despite the stronger winter winds. It was decorated with discarded cyan blue, sunny yellow, and midnight blue dragon scales and doubled as a cover for her ears against the harsh winds. Her metal shoulder pads had been left behind due to cold metal against skin raising the risks of dying by frostbite. And last but not least, a wide strip of dark brown leather was wrapped around her waist, working to hold her tunic down against the cold winds. Dangling on the left side of the leather band was a thin, leather rope of sorts with a metal ring with a diameter no bigger than her wrist hanging off of the other end of thin rope. It's functional purpose was nothing at this point. It hadn't been used in years. And with every step, the metal ring slapped against her upper thigh. The original version of the leather waistband had been a little big on her when she was younger, but she had grown into it... a little... It had been repaired and even replaced over the past year or so.

Other than that, the only thing even worth paying attention to (besides her immediate lack of a sharp blade) was her "cargo".

Astrid bit down on her dry and cracked lower lip. And not because she was trying her best not to think about the high risks of hypothermia she was taking at the moment either. The blond was trudging around through the thick blanket of snow, carrying her cargo on her back. Both of her arms were behind her, supporting her cargo's weight and thereby hindering her balancing skills while running since she couldn't pump her arms at her sides. Thankfully, it was small enough that she could carry it underneath her Deadly Nadder pelt to try and conceal it, but that didn't stop her from occasionally glanced down at either of her sides. On her right side, being held up by her arm, was a bony leg. Normally, such a sight wouldn't bother her if she knew she was carrying somebody around. What bothered her was that when she glanced down at her left side, the other leg stopped abruptly just below the knee. The metal shrapnel that had previously been attached to the stump of a leg had been removed and left behind in the snow drifts due to it being twisted and smashed behind recognition. If she had not witnessed the whole scene or know who she was carrying around, Astrid would have never know the slab of metal and splintered wood was once used as a prosthetic foot.

Her once stormy blue - gray eyes became glossy and half - lidded as she thought. A frown faintly crossed her lips, turning her usually blank expression downward. Astrid's pace slowed from a brisk, if stiff, walk to a small shuffle of sorts through the falling snow. Gradually, the blond was standing completely still in the middle of what had once been a clearing. With the snow coming down without remorse, the trees coated in a layer of fluffy white paint, and the gray sky overhead, it was near impossible for her to even know where she was. Astrid shook her head, but couldn't stop herself from thinking about the past and what had just transpired mere minutes previous to the here and now.

She thought about the quaint if violent village of Berk. The cliff - side settlement had once been home to hundreds of Vikings and nearly twice that in dragons. She thought about her Deadly Nadder, Birdbrain the Vain, whom the pelt she currently wore had once belonged too. Biting back the tears that threatened to fall, Astrid's mind wondered toward the next topic at hand. She thought about her friends, their sunny smiles, and their laughter reached her ears despite knowing they weren't with her now. She couldn't stop a small, wet laugh to escape her as her thoughts wondered further into the crevasses of her mind that Astrid had worked so hard to put behind her and never think about again. She pictured all six of them sitting around campfires, telling crazy stories, sharing body heat, and generally enjoying each others company. Astrid didn't bother suppressing the silent sob that wracked through her body as her mind brought forth the images of everyone still as young and carefree as ever. Not just because such a memory seemed more like a fantasy when compared to reality now, but because it brought forth her memories of Hic - - . . . him . . .

Astrid forced her eyes closed and took a deep, shuttering breath. It had been so long, but she could still remember it as if she was walking away from one such late - night campfire gathering at this very moment. Her protruding ribs ached from the strain and Astrid once again couldn't stop herself from doing something her mind and heart knew were just going to hurt her even more. The blond turned her head to the right, unable to stop the sad smile (likely her first smile since forever) that curled the corners of her cracked lips upward. Resting on her right shoulder, with eyes closed due to having taken a tough blow to the back of the head, was a boyish face set in hundreds of freckles, a scar on the chin, and adorned with auburn hair the color of tree bark with stray hints of fire when the light hit it just right.

She hadn't seen that freckled face in three long years.

And it looked like he hadn't aged a day since then.

And not just in the face either.

While his face looked mildly peaceful despite being unconscious, Astrid couldn't help but lean her own head toward his. She planted a quick kiss on his left cheek. When she pulled her lips back from the butterfly kiss, his head tilted and leaned against hers. Even after all of this time, Astrid couldn't help but think of that accursed "a" word at the sight of his tilted noggin and peaceful expression. Her cheeks dusted a light shade of pink and this was not due to the harsh winds pushing relentlessly against her face.

Why was he here now of all times? The last time anybody had seen him, it had been right before a freak accident as a result of another one of his insane experiments gone completely wrong. Everyone had just assumed he ceased existing since not a trace of him had been found even after all but digging six feet beneath where he had been previously standing. All of Berk had been torn upside down and then some but still nothing had come up. Astrid had long accepted the thought that the whole thing had been partially her fault since she had repeatedly turned down any requests to give him a hand that day. His ebony beast, then coined as Toothless the Protector, had lost his mind far faster than Astrid or any of the others had expected. Astrid had also come to believe that she was the only reason that damned dragon hadn't sent all of Berk up in flames that night. Shortly after that fiasco, the dragons of Berk began to change. Months before, Fishlegs Ingerman had theorized that their dragons viewed Toothless as their leader after he and his Rider had felled the Red Death. And, by extension and likely also due to the Night Fury's obvious love and concern for the boy, his Rider had also earned a high rank amongst the dragons. With their leader losing his mind due to the disappearance of his Rider, the dragons had lost their whole system of order. Another dragon war would have broken out had Stoick the Vast, bless his eternally resting soul, not ordered that no dragons be harmed in honor of his son. Berk split into three factions. From there, things just spiraled out of control and the rest was history.

After Berk's Vikings split, it was nearly every man for himself. One group sided with staying with the dragons and Toothless the Crippled Guardian. Their war - cry of "Taste our Fury!" became well known and feared within the passing months shortly after. The second faction of Vikings of Berk chose to abandon dragons entirely and opted to return to war with the beasties. The third and final faction had wised up and left the isle of Berk entirely, choosing to leave behind friends, family, and their history. That group had been the smallest of the three, but everyone who had left had been branded a coward and we no longer welcome to Berk. Nobody knew where they had disappeared to and frankly, almost nobody cared to go looking for them.

A lot had happened since then. Of the original six dragon riders of Berk sans the Dragon Master, only four of them were still around. Ruffnut met her untimely end. at the hands of a rogue Skrill while attempting to secure a transport of desperately needed supplies two winter's ago. She had always said she was hoping to get some scarring out of dragon training, and Ruff got her wish just in time to meet her demise at the bottom of the ocean. During the intense battle, Fishlegs had flown into a rare fit of rage and had attempted to aide and save her. The only thing the Ingermen boy gained for his vain attempts for a nasty blow to his right ear, which had permanently blown out his hearing on that side. The only good news that came out of that was that the Skrill was also felled as well. A lot of people had respect for Ruffnut even after her passing.

Tuffnut Thorsten, despite not wanting anyone to know he deeply missed his sister, cried out her name in his sleep and often used her favorite tag - line of "I'm gonna Ruff you up!" when engaged in a spat of some shape or form. The sole surviving twin was missing his left eye after a close encounter with a Thunderdrum, which also cost the Thorsten's Zippleback it's left spark head, the head that Tuffnut always rode on. Apparently, Zipplebacks could live with only one noggin. Astrid was a firm believer that the only reason that dragon was even alive anymore was because of Tuffnut. The two depended on each other to fill the void that the loss of their other half left them with. Those two were as inseparable as Toothless and his Rider had once been.

As for Fishlegs, aside from having his hearing blown in his right ear and missing Ruffnut, the larger boy was probably the best off of the original dragon riders. Horrowcow was still alive and well and followed Fishlegs around like some lost puppy despite the fact that they'd both lost a tremendous amount of weight due to a string of bad luck during hunts and the constant fighting with the other remaining faction of Berk for supplies and land. The knowledge Fishlegs had memorized over the years was one of the leading factors in the group's survival thus far. He knew what was safe to eat and what wasn't. He knew how to tell which direction was which no matter what the weather outside was like. He knew what to look out for for just about every dragon species and then some. About the only thing Fishlegs didn't know how to do was tell Ruffnut that he loved her, but he found the guts far too late for it to matter. Even Astrid felt sorry for him, and she loathed pitying someone almost as much as she despised being pitied herself.

Snotlout grated on Astrid's nerves. The two were constantly butting heads over what should be done and it really didn't help that Snotlout was constantly trying to upstage her to show he was "manlier" simply because of her gender. He tried to sweet talk her and, on several occasions, made it appear that he believed he was more intelligent than she was. Whether or not Snotlout knew of Astrid's feelings towards his cousin was another matter entirely. The only reason the two never actually got the point of killing themselves was because Fishlegs would intervene and, after the loss of Ruffnut, Astrid didn't wish to split the group any more than it already was. Snotlout was littered with scars and peppered from head to toe in more bruises than anyone thought was safe. It was like his skin had permanently turned shades of black and blue. This was mostly due to his tussles with Astrid and his arrogance in fighting off the occasional rogue dragon. Fireworm was just as arrogant as ever, but even she seemed to be giving into death's pull these days. She'd been sick as of late and there wasn't much anybody could do to help the Monstrous Nightmare other than pray to the gods up in Asgard that she wouldn't be joining the growing list of the deceased this winter.

Gobber the Belch, ever as eager to stay with the dragons, had finally fallen to old age last spring. Phil the sheep had died less than a month prior and his Boneknapper, dubbed "Steve" for some unholy reason (Gobber was terrible with names), still hung around. The skeleton dragon was known to take up residence near Ullac, the barely surviving "camp" that the faction of Vikings who supported keeping the dragons. _Ullac_ was the old word for _outlaw_, which seemed to suit the _traitors_ just fine. The actual Berk was where it had always been, but those who were against the dragons currently lived there. With both sides lacking in a blacksmith, it was only a matter of time before things hit their final climax. As to which side would come out on top was anybody's guess. Having dragons meant they had more resources, but it also meant that Ullac had more mouths to feed than Berk did.

Stoick the Vast had stayed true to his vow to respect and keep the dragons to the best of his abilities before rumors of the split first began to spread. He felt compelled to stay with Berk because it was where he had grown up and was the chieftain. But Ullac held true to his son's beliefs and consisted of all of the people who knew his son the best in life. The man wasn't given a chance to make a final decision after a violent fight finally broke out that was the final straw and lead to the people who now called Ullac home leaving Berk completely. As powerful as the man was in life, he was no match for the thousand foot drop off of one of the many cliffs that made up Berk. Astrid was one of many who firmly believed the man died before his time.

Sora, bless his stupid soul, remained grounded on Berk. As much as the brunette wished to go home, without any contact with the outside worlds or a way to repair his Gummi Ship, he had little choice in the matter. Despite everything, he was still as childish and optimistic as ever, which was a major blessing in everyone's lives around him. He was still never short of grins, but even Astrid could see past the veil that he desperately missed Destiny Islands and his friends Riku and Kairi. Having the Keyblade Master taking up residence in Ullac was also a major plus. He helped with raising baby dragons and was known in Ullac as the "Mr. Mom" in the sense that he couldn't say "no" to helping someone. A lot of the small village's orphans stayed in the same shack as him and was known to house no less than twenty Terrible Terrors at any given time. Spitfire seemed to have taken after Sora in the sense that he wished to take in orphaned baby Terrors and supply them with a roof over their head for as long as they needed. Sora reserved using his healing magic only on the most urgent of cases and would willingly hand over the clothes off of his back to anybody who needed them. Sora was still barely taller than Astrid and weighed at least half of what she did due to constantly giving everything he had to others. It was nothing short of a miracle he was still alive! His crazy hair had possibly become more insane over the years, he was missing a few teeth, and he was considered a member of Ullac just as much as everyone else. The two always met up at least twice a week since Astrid needed somebody sane in her life and would discuss life, their pasts, and new potential search spots for the elusive Keyhole. As much as Astrid distrusted Sora upon first meeting him, he was the only person aside from Toothless who instantly liked Berk's first dragon rider despite what others had thought of him. And, for that, Astrid had come to respect Sora a bit more than she did the others. And Astrid was fairly confident Sora needed those meetings and conversations as badly as she did.

Toothless, by some stroke of the gods, was still alive. Astrid was nowhere near a master of helping the dragon fly. And, as a result, the two had not been airborne in several months. With the constant threat of blizzards going on, neither wanted to risk one bad gear switch and spending the rest of winter holed up in some cave on the other side of the island. Toothless was as bitter, cross, and unsocial as ever. About the only people he tolerated were her, Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Sora, occasionally Snotlout, and Gobber back when he was still alive. Astrid had to all but threaten the Night Fury to get him to eat when they actually had fish to give. Toothless seemed more than capable to feeding himself, but his motivation to do so seemed to be growing smaller by the passing week. If not for Astrid, she was almost positive the Night Fury would already be up in Asgard with his Rider. Before today, she felt guilty when she thought about it like that. But now?

As for Astrid? Aside from the death of Birdbrain, Ruffnut, and her childhood crush, she was doing decently enough. At least she liked to think she was. She was still a child, but after Berk had split and Hell had been released onto the isle, Astrid had forced herself to grow up even faster than her training as a Viking was making her. The blond was extremely wary of foreign men after hearing stories from the older women back at Ullac about what unmarried men wouldn't hesitate to do to an unwed woman of age. She avoided people in general outside of Fishlegs, Sora, and Tuffnut. Her father had remained with the faction that went against the dragons and the harsh weather Berk was known for had claimed her mother the following year. For all she knew, her father was dead. She hadn't spoken to the man after she lost Birdbrain to the man's axe. Yet another reason Astrid didn't like to think about the incident.

Honestly, the only reason Astrid thought she was even still alive these days was because she had somebody she needed to take care of. Though she likely would never be able to be a mother, Astrid had taken to raising and taking care of the occasional dragon baby in Ullac. Babies were rare and the blond found she adored them more than any human residing in Ullac. The only other thing that mattered to the blond was that of the only Night Fury anybody had ever seen. The ebony beast was still temperamental, depressed, and lonesome as ever. Astrid rarely departed from the dragon for fear of him doing something drastic and killing himself. That, and Astrid knew she depended on Toothless for her own sanity as much as he depended on her. They both had lost the one person that meant the most in their lives. They both desperately missed his crooked smiles, sarcastic remarks, crazy ideas, awkward shyness, and pacifistic actions. Honestly, out of all of her memories of the past, those were some of the things she clung to the most and hoped she would never forget.

Just thinking about the Night Fury caused Astrid to double her pace and tighten her grip on her precious cargo. When she made it Ullac, she intended to seek out the beast. Though it seemed to good to be true, Astrid had found the one thing they both desperately missed. And although it seemed he had jumped right out of the pages of her memories rather than be affected by the last three harsh years, Astrid could care less. If by some miracle the gods had finally taken pity on her and Toothless, then Astrid would grovel at the feet of Freyja, Thor, and Odin. Heck, she could gladly kiss Loki if this turned out to be for real and not some twisted dream.

Up ahead, she could see the stone arches that marked the entrance to Ullac. The snow was still coming down hard and without a sign of relenting soon, but Astrid couldn't have felt warmer or safer. Her grip on her cargo tightened once more and she bit back an outcry or whistle to let the only being who seemed to matter to her anymore know she had returned. She knew where Toothless would be waiting for her, expecting some dinner that he knew very well wasn't likely to come. They were both starving, but they both knew they would survive this winter so long as they had each other. And with Astrid's recent discovery, she was confident this whole conflict would come to an end and the three of them would survive until old age claimed them.

"We're almost home, Hiccup."

* * *

**Foot Notes**

• The basic concept behind this? You know how some series have one of the key characters accidentally find themselves warped a couple of years or so into the future? Sometimes it happens to teach the character a lesson that they really do matter to the world around them and sometimes it's simply a freak accident. I figured it would work out for both of those options if I went with the idea of shoving Hiccup a few years into the future after one of his crazy experiments went completely wrong. That, and Hiccup just strikes me as somebody who, after going so long with being rejected and despised, to suddenly be accepted and generally liked would take forever to get used to. I'd imagine that on some days, he might think that he's just living in a dream and that he's really dead or still in a coma. So this whole experience would prove to him just how much he mattered to those around him and how much of daily life in Berk he came to effect. Or maybe I'm just looking too far into this idea.

• I'm already in the process of writing a continuation for this. I also have plans for a third one after it. I do not think I will actually post them here though unless this one is liked by more then two or three people. If it doesn't come down to that, then I'll just share them with my RP buddy I've mentioned more times than I can count since she is the one who encouraged me to write a continuation off of this one.


	12. Lost Faith

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

• Since my criteria of at least three people saying they wanted me to post the continuation of "Lost Time", here it is. This one is not as dark as its predecessor, but it does get a bit graphic in description at one particular point. Just a fair warning.

• This focuses a bit more on Sora's point of view on everything rather than adding a back story and details. It still does help to set things up and paint a clearer picture as to what is going on and how things are being handled. It's on a slightly lighter tone than the previous chapter, but that's mostly due to the fact that Sora is far less pessimistic than Astrid is.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_. Kingdom Hearts_ belongs to Square Enix, Tetsuya Nomura, and Disney._  
_

* * *

Three years . . .

Three years and he still wasn't used to the cold.

Three years and his initial fondness for the Meridian of Misery hadn't wavered.

Three years and he still hadn't found a way off of the dreary, frozen rock.

Three years, facing a civil war of sorts, and Sora's optimism was as strong as ever. At least, when he was within the presence of others that is. On the rare occasion that Sora found himself alone for more than thirty minutes, his mind would sometimes wonder to places best left forgotten. It didn't happen very often but the occurrence seemed more frequent these days. Whenever those thoughts began to sunk their jagged nails deep into his cerebellum , Sora would often be found staring off into space. Sometimes this would occur in the middle of another task or even in broad daylight. Just last week Sora was on his way back from a not-so-successful fishing trip. He'd stopped mid-step, fell over onto his side, and stayed there, buried partially in the snow, for a good five minutes before somebody took pity on him and jostled him from his train of thought. Most chalked it up to how strange Sora was. Everyone else just ignored it as they had more important things to do that worry about the mental state of one child.

If Sora could even be considered a child at this point that is. When he had first arrived in Berk, he was only fifteen years old. Since then he'd survived two winters and was currently sitting through his third one, so it was safe to assume he was at least eighteen by now. But there was no way for him to be sure since Berk didn't have a set calendar system to his knowledge. They just went with the changing of the seasons and, if they needed to guess on time constraints or how long ago since they had their last bath, the Vikings had strange holidays they went by that even after being on Berk for so long, Sora didn't understand them. Which was fine. They didn't completely understand his favorite holidays either for the most part.

And, he had to admit, Sora was starting to become less and less fond of leaves changing from their vibrant greens to bright yellows, dull browns, and ruby reds. He didn't mind the fall. It was just that he, like most of the dragons and Vikings he was sure, was not fond of winter. The cold wasn't what bothered Sora so much as it was the harsh trials they were all put through. By the time spring rolled around, Ullac always seemed just a little bit smaller in comparison compared to the last spring season. The leading cause, next to hypothermia and the like, was the shortage of food. It was fairly common in the winter to notice the bone structure - particularly in the ribs and face - of your fellow villagers. Sora wasn't an exception from this rule either. The brunette wasn't shocked to find he'd lost at least a third of his original weight by the time winter was at its peak. An empty stomach was never fun, but Sora always had the habit of giving what he had away to others he deemed in more need than himself. It was probably the leading reason as to why he was barely taller than Astrid despite being her senior by almost a year. Just thinking about food made his stomach plead weakly as his fingers reached up to feel his protruding ribcage through the fabric of his shirt.

Regardless of the dreary atmosphere, Sora was humbled by Ullac's hospitality. Though he wasn't from this world - the locals called it Midgard - Sora was still treated as though he was from this realm and was given some, albeit small, benefits. This was in abrupt opposition to the old Berk, where he was avoided or outright disliked by most. He wasn't anywhere near as physically strong as Snotlout and his agility was almost on par with Astrid's. He wasn't as smart as Fishlegs, but he was more than willing to cooperate with others to help get a job done, which was more than could be said for the confrontational Tuffnut. His heart was just as big as it had been when he first set foot a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.

Giving a weighted sigh, Sora dropped his hand and looked around and tried to focus on his current task. The snow was steadily starting to come down harder. Though it was boring and tiresome work, his firewood pile had been looking pretty low for the past three days and had only seemed to grow smaller by the passing hours. Keeping a decent amount readily available back at the house was one of his many self-appointed chores. The lanky brunette stood before a stack that barely reached his thigh. It wasn't much, but it was all he had been able to scrounge up given the unbearable cold and his lack of energy to do anything that even came close to being labeled hard labor. Now he just needed to haul it up the hill to his current place of residence and he could call it day despite the fact that the sun hadn't been up for more than three or four hours. Daylight didn't last anywhere near long enough in the winter. Sora knew his constant grogginess was partially due to his health and his waning motivation to do just about anything was also a key contributor.

Shaking his head, mentally pushing his body's awareness to the bitter cold aside, Sora let out a soft whistle. The call went unanswered, which he really shouldn't have been surprised about. If he disliked the cold, then he was certain his cold-blooded companions had an even tougher time with the freezing weather. Well, at least he wasn't completely alone. Spitfire had seen better days, but he usually seemed content to rest on Sora's cranium like he had always done. The Terrible Terror typically clung to any source of heat he could get in the winter, which usually lead to Spitfire being a heat vampire on Sora's reserves of warmth. At the moment, the emerald dragon was wadded up in his shirt against his stomach. The Terror's head was peeking out from the collar beneath Sora's collarbone. Spitfire's scales weren't as vibrant as they used to be due to either age or low nutrition, but the Terror was fairing pretty well aside from that. He was still as lively as ever despite that though. The dragon had a small kink near the end of his tail after getting involved in a dragon squabble with two Nadders and a Gronkle, but he had recovered nicely and it didn't hinder his flight too much. Spitfire's left horn protruding from the back of his head had been broken off near the middle due to getting it lodged in one of the Nadder's feet during that fight and the horn had yet to completely grow back. Sora gave the Terror a short scratch behind his head before he bend down and started picking up some of the firewood. He'd probably have to make more than one trip in order to get it all up the snow covered hill, but it would all be worth it tonight. For tonight, they would actually get a decent meal. Call it oblivious enthusiasm, but Sora had more than a little faith that she would get the job done. After all, Astrid was one of the best dragon slayers-turned-hunter for a reason.

With several branches, twigs, and whatever else that was flammable he could find under each arm, Sora hefted his weight and began to slow climb up the snowy incline.

And, as he climbed, Sora's mind began to wonder off on its own once again.

He wouldn't quite call it "home", but it was a place to call his own. The walls were constructed of discarded logs, shields, sheets of metal, and just about anything taller and wider than the average person was. And by "average", we mean about Sora's size. The roof was constructed of similar materials while the floor was nothing more a sea of flat rocks. It had originally just been the dirt ground, but Sora had taken the time to search nearly the entire island to find better flooring materials. Sure, rocks were more painful to sleep on than dirt, but they retained heat far better and were more resistant to fire. The only other thing worth noting about the building's physical structures were the occasional splash of color in the walls and roof. With such a shortage of building materials, Sora had been forced to scrap parts from his wrecked Gummi Ship to help add insulation to the house to get through the winter. When asked about the funny pieces, all Sora could do was shrug and say he didn't know what they were made of. Which was the truth since Sora honestly had no idea what Gummi blocks were constructed of.

The place was barren of any of Sora's personal belongings, but it was full of a small-but-steadily-growing colony of Terrible Terrors within its walls. If the house was larger, he'd have taken in a Nadder or a Nightmare by now. It also wasn't too uncommon for Sora to have guests of the human variety either. Fishlegs was a regular visitor and would often stay for weeks at a time if given permission. Sora always agreed and it was only when Fishlegs felt like he was being a burden did the blond evacuate the dwelling at the top of the hill with Horrowcow in toe. While it wasn't nearly as common, every once in a blue moon Sora would find Tuffnut standing in his doorway. But this typically only happened while Fishlegs was staying with him. Tuffnut wasn't as willing to participate in activities as Sora, but he did help lighten the mood prevailing over the entire village with his crude remarks and ability to laugh at just about anything. Snotlout and Sora still failed to see eye-to-eye despite Sora's best efforts to try and get along with the Jorgenson boy over the years, so the bulkier boy was never seen within ten yards of the house. As for Astrid, she might as well claim the house as her own. The left side was littered with her weapons and memorabilia. The right side was covered in what little things Sora claimed as his own and whoever chose to stay the night's things mixed in. About the only nights Sora had to himself these days were when Astrid spent an all-nighter hunting or when the brunette purposely put some distance between himself and others (which was very rare).

His well worn short black jacket was ratted out from overuse, but the brunette still wore it over his other layers. His old midnight blue shirt provided a thin under layer beneath his tattered dark gray tunic while his faded tan trousers had seen better days judging by the random patch work and torn knees. Sora's outer shirt was larger than his under layers for the sole purpose of giving Spitfire something to curl up in and cling to when the Terror decided that he wanted to be warm rather than on his favorite on the top of Sora's head. His overgrown yellow sneakers still served a purpose and had been lined with fur last autumn. He had on two pairs of socks bearing enough holes to merit retiring them for a newer pair if Sora had the option available to him. The chain to his necklace was rusting in places, but Sora still bore the crown insignia that rested against his chest with pride.

Outer attire put aside, he hadn't physically aged much. Sora was extremely lacking in the facial hair department and his crazy hair spikes had only gotten worse over the years. It now hung down to the bottom of the back of his neck even though cutting one's hair wasn't exactly at the top of the survival list. His hair had lightened in color a little bit and was shaggy where it draped down either side of his head and covered his ears. It worked as a great protection against the bitter cold winds in the winter. His slanted bangs had only gotten longer. Some were saying he was trying to copy Astrid's fringe, but Sora wasn't exactly a fan of having hair in his line of sight. He merely tolerated it since he wasn't walking into trees or dragons yet. The top of the back of his cranium seemed to have been pressed down against its will after years of Spitfire sitting back there. His boyish charm hadn't changed much either as he still looked as young as he felt at heart. Sora's already dark azure eyes that were the color of his namesake were in stark contrast to his pale complexion and his cheeks were sunken in due to malnutrition. His tan pigmentation of skin was a thing of the past. The brunette was a bit on the anemic side while his fingers were long and bony. His knobby knuckles sometimes seemed to pop when he made a fist. The brunette's protruding, round knees and sharp elbows jutted out through his bleached flesh like someone was using his joints to pitch a tent made out of his thinning hide. If his shirts were pulled up, one would notice the designs and intricate patterns his ribcage made. His concave stomach hadn't been properly filled in months. The way the skin on his chest would sink in and out with each inhale and exhale seemed laborious, but Sora was far away from his death bed. A few teeth had been knocked out over the years from various accidents and Sora had broken his nose at least twice. The brunette was incredibly lucky to have avoided a broken arm or lost any limbs for so long.

Despite it consistently being nearly ten below outside, Sora was never short of smiles. And, these days, it seemed like more and more people were in short supply of the simple gesture. For every frown that Sora stumbled across, he couldn't help but want to offer up one of his. While he got mixed reactions for the small sign of happiness, Sora never ceased in his personal quest to try and lighten to burdens of those around him. To him, a smile was more powerful weapon than any fist, blade, or spell. Granted, the Keyblade cut for a very, very close second. To be happy didn't mean that everything was perfect. It just meant that you've decided to look beyond all of life's little imperfections.

The brunette's thoughts traveled back toward the current state of Ullac. There were more dragons than there were people and far too many mouths to feed. The youngest person currently residing in the village was two years Astrid's junior. For every able-bodied human, there were at least three scaled beasts. Granted, the majority of the dragons were Terrible Terrors, but that was beside the point. There were four Monstrous Nightmares - including Fireworm - and about six Deadly Nadders last time Sora took count about two weeks ago. There were nearly twice as many Gronkles as there were Nadders, one BoneKnapper, and one Night Fury. Steve the BoneKnapper tended to come and go since to he ate more than half of the village combined. Some had been contemplating going with the living skeleton to find its hunting grounds and bring some back to the village. While Sora didn't think it was a bad idea, he knew he would not volunteer to make such a trip since he was already needed in Ullac as it was. Last summer a fishing party stumbled across a Scaldren. Fishlegs had nearly died from dehydration via salivation at the sight. But the dragon hadn't joined their village and merely ignored the small boat as they passed by. Toothless the sole Night Fury was Astrid's responsibility as of late and Sora did his best to help ease the burden whenever he could. Which wasn't necessarily needed since the ebony dragon mostly kept to himself and very little fights broke out that directly involved Toothless.

With food shortages going on, squabbles amongst dragons weren't entirely uncommon. Most fights involved a Nightmare since the aggressive beasts sometimes bit down on more than they could chew and were unable to release whatever they clamped onto; much like that of a crocodile. The issue with that being that a Nightmare might bite another dragon or steal food from another reptilian pilot. Sora had been a witness to a few of these fights, but most were resolved somehow before the brunette even caught wind of the disturbance. Terrible Terrors were territorial, but the small flock taking up residence at Sora's house had learned to get along early. Most of the little dragons had their own names, but none of them clung to the brunette nor were they as attached to Sora as Spitfire was.

There was a faint chirping sound, drawing Sora's attention away from his thoughts. The brunette blinked several times and focused his gaze ahead of him once again. What he saw both confused and perturbed him. He could have sworn he locked up before he left, yet the front door was ajar and swinging ever so slightly on its hinges. It was still too early for Astrid to be back from her hunting trip and he wasn't expecting any visitors today. Then again, it wasn't unheard of for someone to stop by at nearly any given hour of the day or night. What was odd about the situation was there wasn't a fire coming from inside and you didn't just barge into someone's house unannounced. He didn't hear any of the Terrors inside chirping in their sleep either. These details set Sora's nerves on edge. Slowly, Sora bent down to set his fire kindling down against the wall. With practiced ease, the brunette flexed his fingers and put his right hand behind him, summoned up his blade. The Kingdom Key answered is call without a moment's hesitation. Spitfire protested at first, but the Terror quieted down after getting a good grip with his claws on Sora's under shirt. Sora wrapped an arm around Spitfire to help hold him in place as he made his way toward the front door.

Right as the tip of his sneaker hit the entrance, a light inside caught his attention. A fire had been started near the center of the house. This caused Sora to relax a fraction, but the way of the warrior was a hard thing to bypass. His deep cerulean eyes narrowed as he tried to make out shapes within the darkness.

What awaited him on the other side shouldn't have been shocking, but it was despite the early evening hour.

With a meek smile, Sora offered a modest greeting.

Not to say that Sora was annoyed that Astrid had seen to come back to Ullac early today or anything. Far from it.

There was no exchange of words past the initial acknowledgment. Before Sora could get a good look at the blond, Astrid gave the hasty order to shut the door. More than willing to comply and keep the cold at bay, Sora retrieved his meager firewood, shut the door, and locked it with practiced ease. Before he even got the chance to look back at the blond, he heard the shuffling of blankets and what he assumed was Astrid picking up her discarded weapons up off of the floor. Fearing that the blond was spooked for one reason or another, Sora reached up and massaged Spitfire's spine beneath the fabric of the front of his shirt with some difficulty before slowly turning himself around to face whatever Astrid had seen fit to bring back to Ullac with her.

Let it be known that Sora trusted Astrid's judgment enough that, if the opportunity were to ever arise, Sora wouldn't have much trouble entrusting his life in the Viking's capable hands. He was used to surprises and often welcomed them with open arms. This time, he wasn't so sure what to make of what his eyes were telling him to be true. Though that didn't necessarily mean it was an unwelcome surprise.

His kindling fell to the floor with dull thud.

"Is that . . . ?"

The only response Sora received at first was a curt nod. Though he was a little wary, Sora approached Astrid despite the fact that all of her actions seemed more than a little bit on the ill - tempered side. Once he was standing next to the potentially hostile blond, Sora knelt down to get a closer look at what she had decided to bring home. And, sure enough, his first glance was more than enough to confirm what he was almost positive he had witnessed. The problem was that he was unable to wrap his mind around the idea. Not yet at least.

"How did you . . . Where did you . . . When did you . . ."

Being unable to form a proper question since there were so many swimming around in his brain, Sora turned his head away to look up at Astrid. The blond had already crouched down next to him and was pushing her Nadder head ornament back so that it wasn't hanging in her face as much. With fingers likely as numb as Sora's brain felt, Astrid readjusted the deteriorating quilts and tucking them in to try and stave off the winter chill. She made about as much sound as a leopard on the prowl. Astrid gave Sora a small pat on the shoulder before she rose. Sora blinked several times as he came out of his stunned stupor long enough to cast a glance behind him to see Astrid taking the firewood he had already carried up the hill into the fire. The rest would have to wait to be retrieved. For now, Sora's mind was elsewhere once again.

Twisting his head back slowly to what - or rather _who_ - Astrid had decided to bring home, Sora attempted to get his mind to fully comprehend just what kind of situation he had on his hands. The fire behind him grew steadily, giving Sora a chance to get a better look. The brunette fell onto his rear with only a faint realization of the action. What lay before him shouldn't have been there, yet here they were. Much like Astrid's realization upon the turn of events - Sora was certain the blond almost died of a heart attack - Sora was unable to understand just how or why this was happening. Even though he hadn't known the scrawny russet - haired boy for very long in comparison to his roommate, Sora had none the less felt attached to the blacksmith apprentice. He'd spent a lot of his time way back when pestering and being bombarded with questions in return by the shorter Viking.

Three years had passed since that faithful day that threw the entire isle of Berk into turmoil.

Three years and Sora had almost seen fit to give up all hope for good.

Three long years and Sora couldn't have been happier to see a familiar, friendly face.

Forgoing the _small_ detail that said person was unconscious at the moment.

He held no ill will toward the deceased. Well, _formally_ deceased judging by the fact the kid was clearly alive and breathing and occasionally releasing a shiver from the cold. Though, Sora had to admit, he was incredibly curious as to how this had happened. Despite being wadded up in every blanket in the house and sprawled out on his back, Hiccup didn't look any older than the last morning Sora had woken up within the old Haddock residence three years prior. He still looked as scrawny, lively, and wily as he was in his memories. Sora wouldn't doubt the other boy was still as animated as he had ever been too.

Spitfire wiggled his way out of Sora's tunic and padded over the mattress and fabrics. The little green dragon came to a stop when he sat down on the newcomer's chest, chirping curiously and tilting his head to the left. Sora stifled a small laugh at the sight. There wasn't enough time for anyone to even snap before three more seemed to manifest out of thin air in the shrinking darkness. The first hastily clambered over Sora's left knee. The maroon Terrible Terror warbled softly as she came to a stop next to Hiccup's shoulder, sat down on her haunches, and leaned forward by placing her front paws on the boy's shoulder. If her amber eyes could get any larger, they might have popped right out of her head. The third Terror to descend on the scene climbed onto the mattress silently and sat on a corner just out of everyone's reach. He was an older dragon who was colored a rusty orange with dulled yellow highlights and lightly peppered with scars of varying lengths. That specific Terror was always wary of newcomers. He had only just recently tolerated being touched just last month despite having stayed within that very house for nearly a year now. The final Terrible Terror to join the group quite literally fell from the sky. He was a young dragon, painted a dark teal that could easily pass for a green at first glance. The little ball of scales dropped like a stone through the air and landed on top of Spitfire. The older forest green Terror squawked in a displeased tone, but refrained from turning his head around to nip at the smaller dragon since his attention was already preoccupied. So the little teal Terror split off of Spitfire's back and sat down next to the larger dragon and mimicked his head tilt.

Sora's initial snicker grew in volume with each new arrival. He only held back his chuckles to avoid scaring the dragons off or drawing attention to himself. The light-hearted sound eventually diminished, leaving only silence, the crackling of the fire, and the occasional Terror chirp in its steed. Eventually, Sora heard Astrid move. The sound of her boots against the stone floor was hard to miss. The brunette blinked and looked over his shoulder just in time to see the last remains of a smile leaving the blond's face. The thought of such a thing coming forth, especially now of all times, caused Sora's face to split into a goofy grin.

"He always seems to know what to do to make you smile."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. One even Astrid couldn't bring herself to argue with even as she pulled Birdbrain's memorabilia back over her anemic facet. The action earned a confused head tilt from Sora. Astrid slowly rose up from the floor, her knees making a wet popping in a feeble protest that sent alarms off in Sora's mind, and placed a skeletal hand on the brunette's head. His azure gaze had followed her even before her palm touched the top of his scalp. Sora blinked up her innocently, an unspoken question that was as plain the nose on his face. The lost remnants of a long lost happy expression tugged on the corner of Astrid's lips even as she removed her hand from Sora's cranium.

"I'm going to get Toothless."

That was all Astrid said before she turned and all but ran out the door. Sora blinked owlishly at her wake. It wasn't until he heard the front door slam closed that he realized the gravity of the situation.

For one, that meant Toothless was going to be brought to Ullac. Most people in the small settlement likely thought the black beast had either died or left the Meridian of Misery to, well, escape the misery. Sora was fairly certain the dragon was still around with how often Astrid left to visit the Night Fury. The last time he had see the ebony dragon was about half a year ago. Astrid had needed a hand with another one of her attempts to get Toothless airborne. The whole fiasco ended with Astrid gaining a fractured wrist and Sora discovering what a dragon tail to the back of the head felt like. The house was big enough to keep the Night Fury so long as he didn't mind curling up for most of his stay. Sora had no idea where Toothless was currently residing nor did he know how Astrid intended to sneak him back to the house. Then again, their shared residence at the top of the hill was a good ten minutes away from the next house. Though he was accepted in Ullac, people were still wary of the Keyblade Wielder. Heck, the leading reason that Sora and Astrid even lived under the same roof had originally been because Astrid didn't like crowds and crowds tended to not like Sora on this world.

The next thing that popped into Sora's mind was that Astrid clearly had to have a significant amount of faith in the brunette to leave him alone with Hiccup. Then again, she had left the boys alone plenty of times in the past. Maybe the past three years and proven to her how trustworthy and dependable he could be. Hopefully, nobody would come by the house while Astrid was out. That would be a hard one to explain since Sora didn't even know what was going on or how this whole thing had transpired.

The third thing to cross Sora's mind was not just what Astrid had said but how she had made her point. More often than not the blond would hardly utter a word - let alone a complete sentence. But she was far from mute. Tick her off, and she would gladly shout an elaborate threat to your name. It was one of the few most constants in Sora's life to hear one of Astrid's intricate insults that usual involved bodily harm to one or more persons at least twice a week. Just the other day Sora recalled overhearing a particularly complex threat involving Thor's hammer, a few dragon burps, some pine cones, one stick of charcoal, and something about ripping Tuffnut's skull out to beat him to death with it. And by _overhearing_ we mean Astrid was yelling it at the top of her lungs. What Tuffnut had done to garner such a threat to life was beyond Sora's comprehension. He was so used to hearing the wildly thrown insults that he hardly asked what was wrong anymore. If it was something she was seriously considering going through with such complicated methods, Astrid wouldn't have said anything. But, aside from the weekly death threats, Astrid hardly said anything outside of the occasional grunt or grimace. The most she did facial expression wise was roll her eyes, quirk an eyebrow, or pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. So the fact that she'd said a full sentence without threatening somebody's life was astonishing in more ways than one.

Going from his thoughts of Astrid, the next thing that warily made it's way into the brunette's train of thoughts was the lack of food the blond had come back with. Unless they were planning on resorting to cannibalism, the pair might have to resort to asking around Ullac for table scraps tonight. He knew the first option was never going to happen, so he dismissed the thought the second the word entered his mind. And Astrid's pride wouldn't allow for such begging, so when it did fall to such a situation it would fall on Sora's gaunt shoulders to request subsistence from others since he was more willing to swallow his dignity. Oh well. It would seem he would likely be put in the hot seat yet again later tonight. Especially since they were going to have to feed one extra mouth tonight.

The next thing Sora noticed was more of a physical feature than anything. How he hadn't noticed it before hand was a possible testament to the brunette's attention (or lack thereof) to detail. Maybe it was because he wasn't concentrating on the _smaller_ aspects because his brain was still trying to rein in the entire circumstance. Or maybe Sora hadn't recognized the minor plight because he hadn't had to deal with anything of the same caliber for going on several years now. But, regardless of the reasons, Sora only just now regarded the way the end of the wads of blankets abruptly stopped on one side and continued on in a thinner line. This small detail took a sum total of five seconds to register itself within his hard skull. Sora quirked an eyebrow and glanced around the house. Sure enough, there was nothing. Meaning, one way or another, they were short a prosthetic. Which, going from there, whenever Hiccup woke up again he wouldn't have a means of getting around on his own. And nobody within the village even qualified as an amateur blacksmith. Oh well. Astrid was getting Toothless, so Hiccup could just use the large dragon as a means of transportation (or a crutch depending on how he wanted to get around) until they gathered enough materials for him to replace his missing limb.

The last thing to cross Sora's mind was far less important than the other details. His firewood still lay at the bottom of the hill. Oh well. Hopefully Astrid will see it and bring it up on her way back to the house. If not, Sora would go get it once she was back at the house. Hardly anybody else traveled down this way. And, if by some odd occurrence somebody did spot the pile of wood at the foot of the hill, they would know to leave it alone since somebody else had clearly spent the time and put forth the effort to collect to flammable material despite the sub-zero temperatures outside.

He let out a soft chuckle as he reached over and massaged Spitfire between his wing joints. The maroon Terror and the dark teal one had made themselves comfortable as they settled down up against either side of the youngest human present. The older orange Terror was content to curl up next to the boy's head but refrained from touching him. Spitfire twittered quietly before he climbed into Sora's lap after the older brunette had taken a seat on the corner of the bed. His blue eyes trailed off toward the fire as the warmth seeped through the chilly shack. A nostalgic look crossed his features as his eyes started to glaze over. His mind wondered toward another point in time in his life.

An old saying came to mind. One Sora hadn't thought of in years.

A hint of a grin pulled at the corners of his lips.

"We pray for our sorrows to end, and hope that our hearts will blend . . ."


	13. Lost Courage

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

• Third installment in the _Lost_ series. Takes part directly after _Lost Faith_.

• Oddly enough, my RP buddy found a way to write her own response to all of these. She's discussed the idea with me, but to my knowledge she's yet to start on it. But, since I refuse to post anything that isn't mine and she doesn't have an account here, this will likely be the last chapter of this mini-series to be posted on this site. Sorry.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_. KH_ is copyrighted to Tetsuya Nomura and Square Enix.

* * *

Winter was here. It was a fact of life. There was no escaping it. It blanketed the world in a sea of white. So much so that it was blinding. And more of it was pouring down from the heavens in a torrential downpour, coating everything in the unforgivably cold, fluffy substance. The only things that gave the eyes even a fleeting break from the absence of color were either dead or were never alive in the first place. Most of the wildlife had retreated for the winter, moved on to warmer places, or had been picked clean by other animals seeking to continue in the struggle for survival. What little was left was on its last leg.

However, there was someone pounding through the thick expanse of white as if her life depended on it.

And, in a sense, it was.

She ran down hill, cutting through the thick layers of steadily falling snow as if they were only figments of her imagination. A short wood pile she jumped over went unnoticed as the snow continued to hide it from the line of sight. She was nothing more than a blur of turquoise, yellow, and other faded colors against a blank canvas. She ran as if she were a living embodiment of Njörðr. She ignored all looks received; whether from her fellow villagers, the wildlife, or the many faces from her past. No one could stop her no matter how badly they wished for her to cease on the potentially fatal strain on her worn and ragged body.

Her breath came in short, sharp, rapid gasps that stung at her lungs like millions of little frozen needles. But still she did not stop. She blazed through the village gateway, barely passing a glance at the guard on duty despite his demands for her to stop. She run up and over what her fatigued bones considered mountains without bothering to slow upon decent. Her body, which felt like a burden on her weary soul, knew the way far better than her mind ever could. Her heart ached from strain, but still it pressed her onward. The cold bit at her bare face and sank its icy fingers into her very skin and bones and still she would not back down. Her meager reserves of energy was already running low and even that could not stop her relentless sprint. She was almost literally running on nothing more than her own stubborn willpower.

You can't stop time. You can only accept it and go with the flow. To stubbornly fight against it was futile. For three years Astrid had resigned herself to her fate. But now, with a spark of hope in her glacier eyes, her feet were as swift as a rabbit's and her body felt as light as a feather. So she continued to run. Astrid had already run halfway across the aisle and yet here she was making a complete u-turn and going straight back to where she'd come.

Astrid knew it was damn near suicidal to continue this foolhardy excursion given her physical condition, but that alone couldn't stop her. The blond continued to sprint as if she were in a marathon race against eternity. Time had an unfair advantage over her though; an advantage that had a three year head start. But still she pressed onward, subconsciously seeking refuge in a time and place that had long since slipped through her bony fingers.

She plowed through the snow when it reached her thighs. She resorted to pushing the white flurry aside with her arms as she continued in her wild sprint when it began to reach her waist. Astrid knew if she stopped she would drop dead. She knew if she only paused to catch breath she would never move again. She would be lost to the blizzard and would rejoin her mother and Birdbrain up in Valhalla. But she couldn't. Astrid was not willing to accept Freyja's loving embrace nor could she sit at Odin's table to feast for all eternity alongside her comrades in arms knowing there was still work to be done on this plain of existence.

Her pace finally began to slow when she neared her first stop. The blond only offered a passing glance before she poured on the speed again, blazing past the massive hole in the ground. From the looks of things, it hadn't been occupied in while. There were no indents in the snow to indicate a set path from something passing through. The ground was buried under mounds of snow far deeper than the cliffs overlooking it. Njörðr could not reach the abysmal grotto no matter how hard he pressed against the bare trees to dig his bitter winds into the cove's abandoned expanses. The top of the lake was frozen over, likely killing some - if not all - of the fish that called it home. Nobody had dared tread down there to fish in over a year for fear of not being able to climb back out again over the slippery boulders due to thick layers of ice. A fall down into the cove would likely claim your life with how frozen the ground was, so sliding down the rocks was out of the question.

Just glimpsing down into the cove made Astrid double her already insane pace. The place held many memories for the young Viking. Most of them were pleasant. With the exception of her first encounter to the only Night Fury anybody had ever laid eyes on in broad daylight, Astrid held no ill qualms toward its odd-ball pair of former occupants.

The blond's momentum never seemed to cease. She jumped over fallen tree trunks and ducked down to avoid being smacked in the face with low-hanging branches. Astrid climbed near vertical mounds of rock and earth using her hands and feet without pausing to think of how reckless her actions were becoming. Her fingers were cut by sharp rocks and her palms were smeared with mud and snow. Her knees were slammed against boulders as she attempted to climb over or squeeze between them. Twice Astrid nearly lost her only memento to Birdbrain when the nasal horn had been caught on something.

She had considered turning around. She did at practically every turn. Why was she stupid enough to leave the first sign of hope she'd had in years in the hands of a kid she hardly trusted? Even after all these years, Astrid was still wary of Sora. But there was far more trust between them then there had been way back when. By Thor's hammer, if Astrid was being perfectly honest, she would have to admit that the only reason she first even started to get along with Sora was because Hiccup had specifically asked her to give the other brunette a chance. And, even then, Astrid was wary. It was when she took into retrospect what was being asked of her way back when that she finally gave the foreigner a chance. Hiccup, the (former) village outcast, was asking her to accept another human being who they knew was going to be shunned by Berk for his abnormalities. In that sense, Hiccup was asking her to not only accept Sora, but himself in some twisted sense. Though Astrid doubted that was Hiccup's true intentions at the time, that was how she saw the situation and, try and she might, she couldn't shake the realization from her mind.

So she gave in and played Hiccup's little game.

Astrid didn't regret it so much as she questioned her faith in both of the scrawny boys.

She'd hated Hiccup for upstaging her in dragon training. Every time he succeeded at subduing a dragon in the training arena, he'd smile like the clumsy oaf that he was before beating a hasty retreat. Astrid had - at least at first - taken it as him rubbing his victories in her face. Yet when she later learned the truth and when she was given the privilege of getting to see other sides of the boy nobody else had ever witnessed, Astrid found that she liked Hiccup on levels she didn't quite understand. His goofy little smiles weren't because he was gloating, but because he was genuinely nervous about the attention and was probably trying to convey some sort of apology to her. The change Hiccup brought into her life was hard at times to accept, but she found she was able to get through it so long as she kept him close. Some memories still plagued her mind, but so long as he was around, her guilt was held at bay. So when the scrawny brunette turned up missing, Astrid felt Hiccup had turned her life upside down again. Her guilt was free to eat her alive from the inside out. The blond could only cling to what little sanity she had and pray to the gods it was all a dream that would end soon.

And then there was Sora to consider.

Astrid hated Sora for just existing, for being so openly expressive, and for daring to be happy despite the fighting and destruction going on around him. His innocence was border lining irritating at best and downright ticked her off at worst. He was about as bright as a rock at the bottom of the ocean and as social as a small child wanting to know the ins and outs of everything around him. There was nothing about him to like. But Astrid had, at one point in her life, thought the same thing about Hiccup. She thought he was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was almost always more of a nuisance than an advantage. But when Hiccup had gone missing, she needed something to fall back onto. Toothless had done a wonderful job of that, but Sora acted as a link to reality that spoke her language and was far more pacifistic in his ways than the Night Fury was. Astrid was still cautious around the foreign boy, but he was far more tolerable compared to almost every other human being in existence.

In the time that she had spent with either boy, they had become important to her. Hiccup had become the keeper of her heart and, in a twisted sense, her therapist all while acting as a foil to her raging death threats. He could usually calm her down as long as her infamous wrath wasn't directed towards him. Sora had fallen into the role of her annoying kid brother (despite being older than her) and had acted as a moral support when things buckled down to the bare nitty-gritty. He was willing to back her up on just about anything short of murdering Tuffnut. If she was being completely honest with herself, she might have called them _HER_ boys. And Astrid be damned if she let any harm fall upon them on her watch!

Time goes by so fast and people come and go from your life.

You must never miss the opportunity to tell these people how much they mean to you.

It was a cruel lesson in life that was often learned a bit too late to actually make a difference.

Even if she'd been paying attention to where she was going, there was no way she could have seen the overgrown tree root buried in the snow.

It took her by complete surprise. Astrid couldn't resist the yelp that escaped her as gravity ensnared her in its unforgiving net. The blond lay there on her side, gasping for air despite how much it stung at her lungs. Her chest ached with some unseen physical force, as if a heavy weight was pressing down on her ribs and threatened to break them. The white walls surrounding her were at least three or four feet tall and steadily rising. It was like they were there to trap her and steal the very breath from her chest to give her broken body back to Fjorgyn. It was, at best, a pathetic offering to a god.

She wanted to get up. She wanted to fight against the bitter cold. Her mind was all but screaming at her weary body to get up. Astrid bit down on her cracked lips and attempted to will her body into motion. But it was futile. Her muscles were aching. Her bones felt like they were breaking in half. What could she do? Dying was not an option, yet her body seemed to have thrown in the towel despite the adamant threats of her mind and the pounding pleas of her rapid heart.

So she laid there.

Time heals all wounds, but it cannot bring back the dead.

Astrid wasn't ready to welcome oblivion, but she was completely spent. There was nothing to fight with. Some would even argue there wasn't anything left to fight for anyway. But she still wanted to get up and continue running through the blizzard. The blond could have cried out in frustration and maybe even a little bit in sadness if she had the energy to do so. Her chest heaved in anguish. With every breath it felt like her world was getting darker.

Maybe she had finally lost her mind. And maybe the gods were seeing fit to mercy kill her.

Maybe . . .

Maybe she'd get to see Hiccup and Birdbrain again.

Fatigue makes even the sharpest of minds delusional.

Time doesn't stop for the world, but merely for those who leave it.

A soft croon barely reached her ears. It did not register in her mind as she simply ignored it while her body began to shut down. It wasn't until she felt something cold gently press against her torso to push her against something warm that she realized she was still clinging to life. Astrid blinked slowly as her spine was met with an almost overwhelming wave of heat. All she saw was a world of black. So . . . This was what death felt like? And here she was expecting something grander. Or maybe this was the fate she was being given thanks to her fall from grace and non-heroic death. Astrid wanted to fight against it, but she just couldn't bring any of her aching muscles to obey her. It would seem all of those years of endless training amounted to nothing in the end. Astrid could have laughed at the irony. Hiccup had once made her think the same thing when he outdid her in dragon training without so much as doing a single push-up and look where that had gotten her?

Astrid allowed her icy-blue eyes to slip closed.

And she waited for Hel's cold embrace.

Time moved on.

Blinking slowly, Astrid could have sworn she felt the source of heat move in and out against her stiffened spine. Confusion crept into her exhausted mind. Her body was feeling a little better thanks to the therapeutic warmth slowly making its way into her debilitated muscles. The snow that had previously fallen on her was melting and soaking into her clothes. Astrid raised her hand at a sluggish rate. She was expecting to find an endless abyss. So when her frozen fingers were met with something leathery that moved a fraction of an inch from the touch, it was nothing sort of a miracle that a gasp didn't escape her cracked lips. Her disoriented mind could not grasp what was going on and her body was still too tired to try and push whatever was covering her away.

Though her mind was clouded, she pushed against the haze, using the strange source of warmth and black substance as a mental anchor. There was a faint feeling of movement against her spine. Astrid's body was so desperate for rest that her instincts had been dulled to the point that she did not react to the shift in position at first. She inhaled sharply before forcing her gaze above her head. The movement took such a great deal of effort that Astrid felt like her shoulder was going to snap in half. Her eyes traveled upward even though her vision was still overtaken by a wide expanse of endless darkness.

There was a glimmer of light that caught Astrid's attention. It looked crooked for some reason from her point of view, but the sight of the floating emeralds entranced her. Her hand moved away from the leather-like substance covering her to reach out toward her only source of colored light. Her frostbitten fingers came into contact with something solid when the slithers of jade moved away from her. Curiosity gripped her remaining senses as her fingertips fought against the numbness. Her fingers curled so she could dig her nails into whatever it was she was coming into contact with. She wasn't expecting to hear a deep rumble that vibrated against her back as her nails scraped against something solid. The green slits that hovered in mid-air became smaller and further apart.

Instinct screamed at her to back off, but the rolling thunder sounded far more pleasant than the shrill howls of the wind. Perplexed and undeterred, Astrid continued to force her arm up and down at the shoulder to rake her nails against the camouflaged floating mass. She vaguely felt it press against her hand. But her energy had long been spent. Not three minutes had passed before her arm fell back down to her side with a limb thud. The emerald returned to her line of vision, only this time the slits were wider than before. Slowly her world ceased to be black as a blinding expanse of white came into view. It took her mind far too long to realize that it was still snowing. Astrid squinted her eyes against the colorless sea. A small shuffle brought her attention away from what lay before her to witness what was pressed against her back.

Astrid gave a weak smile as a swell of emotion engulfed her aching chest.

A gentle twitter reached her ears that conveyed a sense of confusion and concern.

For the first time that day, time seemed to be standing still for the living.

"Hey . . . "

A pair of inky circles, each set in between two crescent emeralds, widened into dinner saucers in a matter of seconds. An obsidian, wedge - shaped mass that held the green spheres in place tilted to the side. Two elongated ebony flaps shot up at the sound of her cracking voice. A prick of feeling crept into Astrid's fingers as she slowly began to recognize the impression of smooth scales. She'd missed the texture without even realizing how much she longed for the sensation of little warm plates pressed against her open palm.

She didn't know how. She didn't know why. All Astrid did know was that she'd found what she had set out to look for in the first place.

Time seemed to resume its course as if nothing had ever happened.

With utmost care and at a painstakingly slow pace, Astrid forced herself to sit upright. Her joints popped in protest and bones attempted to realign themselves comfortably. Her back arched forward as she tried to stop using him as a crutch, but it would seem he was not going to tolerate such bravado today. He kept close just in case she needed something to support herself against. It was an old habit that was rarely put to use anymore. The pair had never been extremely close, but they had a common attraction. They were far too stubborn and prideful for their good too. Not a healthy combination, but they'd managed to survive this long.

A loud chuff drew Astrid's attention away from the snow falling from the sky. A black mass began to come up and over her head, but it stopped short of completely overtaking her line of vision this time. It merely hung above her head to shield her from the falling elements. Under normal circumstances, she might have scoffed and shoved the wing aside. But Astrid was exhausted beyond anything she could ever recall experiencing. She didn't want to submit, so when she leaned back against his side, Astrid tried to play it off as if it had been her intention the whole time. "You're being oddly cuddly today. What changed your mind all of the sudden?" The floating mass of black - his head - came closer toward hers. Astrid couldn't stop herself from tilting her own noggin back a little bit to look him in the eyes. He didn't look very amused, but her uncharacteristic use of sarcasm caused an odd chuckle to escape him not even five seconds into their staring contest. Neither were fluent in the play on words, but both of them had at one point been so used to hearing it that to have someone form the phrases so easily was almost music to their ears. In any case, it was better than listening to the bitter winds or their empty stomachs.

Astrid reached over and gently ran the very tips of her fingers against the scales that formed the upper ridge over his left eye, almost like an eyebrow. The dragon emitted a quiet purr before he deliberately put his head down. Astrid understood why. While he loved the attention, Toothless would not tolerate anyone touching his head for very long. That prerogative had been reserved long ago for someone else. No one else had the right to touch his face; especially the end of his acute nose. He would permit Astrid the privilege to scratch the lining of his jaw or rub his brow, but his nose was completely off limits. She respected the dragon's wishes and did not attempt to break that unspoken promise of boundaries. Astrid did sometimes wonder if the Night Fury's nose felt like velvet though. Under certain light, one could see the small patch of skin at the very tip of the dragon's muzzle that was a lighter shade than the rest of his head. Astrid was curious to know if it was covered in fewer scales to allow it to be more sensitive than the rest of the dragon's body.

Putting those thoughts aside for a more appropriate time, Astrid turned herself around to face the ebony mass of scales and teeth. She made sure to keep the wing above her head.

Though time was unkind to almost everyone else, it seemed to have taken a liking toward the onyx beast.

There were a few more battle scars that had been earned over the years. By far the most prominent - and the most deserved - was the jagged line running down his right wing; the wing currently hovering above her noggin. It started just under the "thumb" in the second to last sail section and ran down the middle of it until it reached the very end. Astrid hadn't actually seen the event, but Toothless had been in a fight with an adolescent Changewing that had decided humans might make a good supplement to its usual diet. She was present in the fight, but her back was turned when the younger dragon raked its claw through the Night Fury's wing webbing. It had been a pain to heal, but it was as good as it was going to get. Everyone had been really lucky to avoid any acid burns during the whole fiasco.

Surprisingly, Toothless hadn't gotten much bigger over the years. Either from his diet or because Night Furies weren't very big in the first place was anyone's guess. He had always been a bit of a glutton, so trying to attain the dragon's normal diet on a daily basis had been given up ages ago. He was fully capable of hunting without the use of flight anyway. The dragon still had all of his teeth and he'd shed a few scales. The best news was that he hadn't lost his remaining tail fin. There were a few nicks and scraps that were shown as a lighter gray on his scales to resemble scars, but Toothless had a few of those before the madness had settled into the isle. The shredded remains of what had once been a leather saddle had been removed due to the metal rusting over and irritating his skin. Toothless hadn't been too pleased with the decision, but he accepted it with time. His health mattered. If the dragon became infected due to the rusting parts tearing his scales and underlying flesh away, there would be nothing anyone could do for him other than to put him out of his misery. The metal clasps that had once held his prosthetic had likewise been removed for the same reason. All of his old equipment was housed back at Astrid's lodge for safekeeping.

Another problem for the Night Fury to face was that his world had been gradually going dark over the past year or so. And not in a figurative sense either. For whatever reason, the gods had seen fit the slowly rob Toothless of his sight. He wasn't walking into trees - yet - but the outer edges of his vision were gradually becoming blurry. As a result, his emerald eyes were usually narrowed a bit to heighten his line of sight as much as possible. Astrid only noticed the visionary issue a few months back when Toothless mistook a plank of wood from an Icelandic Cod. She'd previously thought he had a permanent thorn up his rear with how often he was glaring and didn't hesitate to accuse him of this on a daily basis. By the time she'd discovered the truth, Astrid took it upon herself to not leave the Night Fury alone for extended periods of time. But Toothless could still take care of himself. It was just a matter of time before he completely lost his vision at this rate.

There was, however, an injury going on that hardly anyone could see.

Like Astrid, Toothless was suffering the long term illness of a broken heart.

It wasn't hard to guess the Night Fury suffered such a fate, but he did a marvelous job of harboring his suffering behind closed doors.

After all, you can't change the past, but you can ruin the present by worrying about the future.

Toothless gave a gentle warble in confusion. Astrid had to fight through her mind's haze in order to remember why she had risked her life to run through a blizzard like the crazy woman the Night Fury most likely thought she was. The blond quickly removed her Nadder ornament from her head. She fumbled with her between her frostbitten fingers to flip it upside down. It was then held it out toward Toothless. She was careful not to jam it up against his nose. Toothless clearly wished to question her further, but he obliged and inhaled through his flaring nostrils.

Once again, time seemed to have stopped in order to watch the dragon's reaction.

Toothless's pupils dilated to a size Astrid had never seen before. His head jerked forward to shove his nose completely into the garment made from dragon hide. He keened in the most heartbreaking note she had ever heard. The Night Fury's reaction all but finalized everything for her. It was like the last pieces of a puzzle were being discovered after being lost in the couch for years. A wet laugh escaped her lips and she tried her damn best not to burst into a fit of tears like the girl she truly was. Toothless pulled his head back when he heard the sound, trapped somewhere between trying to figure everything out and comforting her. Astrid shook her head before she eased the Nadder adornment back into its rightful place.

She took a slow, shaky breath.

"He came home . . ."

Astrid forced her eyes to close so the torrential downpour didn't start.

Her anesthetized hands wound into tight fists that shook from suppressed emotion.

She'd gone this long without crying and she'd be damned if she started now.

And time finally began to move again.

Toothless's reaction was immediate. He all but jumped onto all fours, his head jerking in the direction he knew Berk resided. A few of his joints popped and his tail flicked snow up into the air. Astrid opened her eyes to the sight and nearly caved. The blond leaned forward, sat up on her knees, and pressed her palms against his thick neck and pushed on it as hard as she could. He was clearly confused by the pressure, but he obliged and allowed her to adjust his direction. Astrid barely moved his head thirty degrees before she lost the strength to continue. But Toothless had gotten the message. He continued to move his head until it was pointed in the direction of Ullac. Satisfied, Astrid sat back on her legs. Toothless blinked several times, his nostrils flaring at a torpid rate, before he looked back toward the blond sitting on the cold ground next to him.

Unsure of where to go from here, Astrid gently pat her hand against the dragon's shoulder. "What are you waiting for? Get going," she said in a hushed whisper that was all too quickly silenced by a gust of wind. Toothless had heard her though judging by the way his right ear perked forward. "He's gonna need you when he comes back around." Astrid knew that the ebony dragon was going to be needed just like the last time something like this had transpired. That was the main reason she had sought out Toothless in the middle of a blizzard.

Toothless continued to just stare at her. "Move it." Giving an exasperated sigh, Astrid shoved with all her remaining strength against the dragon's shoulder. "Just go already!" Still Toothless refused to budge. The dragon watched her like he was expecting something. Something Astrid didn't understand.

Sensing the confusion, Toothless crouched back down again and slunk his head and neck beneath Astrid's arm. Understanding swam into her consciousness. Astrid felt a soft grin coming on as she began the slow process of hauling her tired body on the dragon's back.

It took fifteen or so minutes before she was finally comfortable. She was situated so that she was sitting on the Night Fury's shoulders, each leg hanging off of their corresponding sides. She leaned forward, pressing herself against the back of the dragon's neck and did her best to get her arms around his wide throat. It was unsuccessful, but Astrid was fairly confident she'd be able to hang on for the entire ride so long as Toothless avoided any major dips or near vertical climbs. The blond pressed her left cheek against the cool ebony scales with her face toward the side to avoid the icy winds. Her grip with her thighs tightened in preparation. Astrid's back curled and her muscles tensed despite how ragged her body felt.

"I'm ready."

Taking the initiative, Toothless folded his wings as close to his body as he could as he rose up from the frozen earth. The wind had died down, but the snow was still coming down. He squared his shoulders, flattened his ears, wiggled around, and inhaled a deep drag of oxygen.

"Go."

With that one softly uttered syllable, the mass of black, yellow, and blue was lost to the white winds of winter and swallowed by the dying woods.


	14. Lost Chance

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

• I know I said I wouldn't do any more, but I ended up writing another one anyway. This is a prequel to the previous "Lost" chapters, so it was written with the mind-set that the readers had read the previous installments.

• At this point, there might be another one, but I'm not 100% sure. Some have told me they like this weird little series and at least one person has informed me that they would like a continuation of the Maleficent drabble series.

• Can't say I care for how this one ended, but I haven't been able to come up with anything else. And I apologize for any cheesiness ahead of time. Just a fair warning.

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_ or _Kingdom Hearts_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_. KH_ is copyrighted to Tetsuya Nomura and Square Enix.

* * *

The small break of trees in the woods was the definition of somber on that chilly morning. The sun had only begun its decent toward its skyward throne barely one hour ago. The snow was only starting the endless flurry after a few hours' worth of clear skies. The dull crunches of the white powder beneath her boots were just background noise to those who dared to trudge through the winter wasteland.

Astrid quickly glanced around to make sure she had the place to herself. It wasn't often she wondered in this direction. It was probably because she was dangerously close to enemy territory if she dared enter the obscure plot of land.

Under the cover of nature, Astrid felt at home. She felt less on edge and more on her own terms. It was almost a feral thought to consider that one of man - a daughter of Embla - would feel so at ease in the lands dominated by those with sharp claws and gnashing teeth.

Seeing no other living soul present, Astrid released a breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been hanging onto, causing a puff of gray fog to escape her dried lips. The blond surveyed the area beyond the trees one last time before taking the first step out into the open. The second her boot crushed the snow on the ground, Astrid froze and held her breath again.

Nothing.

No reaction.

No movement other the snow falling and the chilly wind blowing through her bangs.

Satisfied, Astrid completely removed herself from the natural cover the forest provided. She briskly made her way toward her initial goal, not pausing in her determined stride to examine or acknowledge the stone structures she passed. Each carefully placed rock barely reached her knobby knees. Some stones were far more decorated than others. Here one mimicked the wings of a Nightmare. Over there was one that looked like a little house. Further down the row was one with what resembled a cradle balanced precariously atop the stone monument. Still others were nothing more than a large rock standing erect on the frozen earth with only a few words etched into its gravel surface.

And not one garnered the attention the graveyard's first visitor since the first snow had fallen this winter.

Astrid knew where she was going. She had taken the same path many times before. She felt ashamed of herself for having not come by in so long, but the blond also knew she was taking a major risk being there now. Astrid's steely gaze softened up for a fraction of a second before she shook her head, shoving any emotions that threatened to climb up her throat back down into her stomach to stew for another day.

Before she knew it, Astrid had reached her destination.

Without missing a beat, Astrid eased herself down to sit on her legs. Her trusty axe was placed flat on its side on the ground next to her. The Nadder helm she almost always adorned was removed from her head and placed over her axe. Her paling blond hair shown like a beacon of light against the dim surroundings. Astrid kept her head bowed forward for several minutes and listened to the wind howl, silently praying to whatever gods up in Asgard that would lend the young Valkyrie their ear.

With a shaky breath, Astrid lifted her stormy eyes—once a vibrant shade of blue having dulled into a dull chunk of ice—up to face the stone before her.

It was of a simple design; smooth, off-white, and lumpy. One side of it had been grounded down into a flat surface and polished until it shined back in the day of its creation. The stone was shorter than most of the others surrounding it. They all knew he deserved something far more intricate, but at the time no stone mason in Berk had enough spare time to make one that could even hope to mimic his inventions or crazy ideas.

A few smaller rocks sat before it, each one different than the last. Fishlegs was no mason, but he had worked for weeks on the small rocks to try and make each mimic one of Berk's seven different dragon species - including the BoneKnapper. He'd been previously working on trying to make game pieces out of them for some weird enterprise he'd been concocting in his head for some time. But the idea had been dropped at the news of the Dragon Master _death_and Fishleg's favorite game pieces now sat before her, poised to protect the stone they were charged with watching over. Astrid honestly didn't see many resemblances between the stone copies and the real ones. The only one she recognized was the Night Fury. It was sleeker than the others and made of a darker ore.

The twins hadn't a clue what to leave as a gift to the dead and gone. They argued about it like they did with practically everything else until they eventually came to the conclusion that they would settle for not kicking each other's ass on the day of funeral. The fact that they had actually accomplished it still baffled everyone who witnessed the rare truce between the always bickering siblings.

Gobber and Stoick had said a few words, but Astrid hadn't been present to hear them. Even if she had, she didn't want to remember the things they might have said in tribute. Both of them had serious issues when it came to the ways with words anyway. Most Vikings did for that matter. Astrid was no exception.

Snotlout had never been one to give much thought to anything, but even he seemed to feel the need to be out of his normal character that fateful evening. Though they had never been close despite the blood relations, Snotlout left his favorite dagger next to the memorial site. What the dead could do with the blade was beyond her, but Astrid's _gift_served an even less practical use.

A well-worn saddle was still leaning against the side of the stone figurehead. Astrid had spent an entire day trying to talk Toothless into letting her remove it. And, in all honestly, it had only been placed there last year. On the day of funeral, after her mother had spent several hours trying to talk the petite blond into at least showing up, in front of Odin and everyone, Astrid composed herself as best as she could and punched the daylights out of the stone. Her knuckles were sour, bloody, and painful for weeks, but Astrid felt she had gotten her point across. She'd gained a few small scars on her knuckles that she wasn't exactly proud of too.

A lone rusty horned helmet sat at the top of the stone. Viking helmets were usually buried with the deceased or, some cases, passed down to the younger generation. It wasn't uncommon for the oldest son to take his father's helmet. It could be taken as an odd coping mechanism. For those who died in battle or something equally as honorable, the helmet was often buried with the Viking. While his demise wasn't very chivalrous, the lasting deeds he had left large colorful marks on Berk made for an exemption to the rules. It was something he was renowned for doing in life anyway.

Etched into the stone were a few words along with his name. She glanced over the epitaph without really reading it. It just sounded like empty word to her anyway. Although - and Astrid wouldn't admit it was her until the day she died - the middle name had been scratched out. She knew how much the name bothered him and it didn't suit him in any way. The _horrendous_word was far too big for somebody of such a small stature and even more humble beliefs. It had been kind of amusing to watch him raise his imaginary hackles whenever Astrid shot a terrible pun his way involving his atrocious middle name. But he'd known it had all been in good fun.

With the wind beating at her back, Astrid took a deep breath, ignoring the pain the chilly wind caused her lungs.

"Sorry it's been so long since my last visit . . . Hiccup."

It didn't make any sense. Astrid was so adamantly against the idea of him being dead. Yet hear she sat, talking to a stone that was erected in his memory in the middle of a snow covered graveyard. There wasn't a body laying a few yards beneath her. A small box of random belongings had been gathered and buried instead. Ironically, it looked as if Hiccup himself would have had barely managed to fit himself into it. Most of his sketchbooks had been taken and Astrid counted herself lucky to have been able to snatch up three of them while nobody was paying attention. She felt little guilt for stealing them though. A few of his old tools were too small for Gobber to use effectively, so they'd been placed in the box. Stoick had also placed a few items in it that Astrid didn't recognize.

"I wanted to bring Toothless, but you know how he feels about," Astrid paused to gesture around the stone she was talking to, "all this."

Astrid could almost see him standing behind the grave stone, leaning on top of his helmet with his arms crossed, rolling his emerald eyes and a crooked, goofy grin plastered across his freckled face that almost seemed to be taunting her despite no ill feelings behind the simple expression.

Looking as if the hands of time couldn't ever hope to catch up to him on the wings of a Night Fury.

Feeling all the more stupid, Astrid bit the inside of her cheek and pressed onward. Hiccup always had a habit of making her act out of the norm and it seemed even after death it wasn't going to be any different.

She kept her face and eyes as expressionless as humanly possible. "It's been three years since . . . well, you know . . ." Astrid was barely able to choke back a small sob, thankful that nobody living was around to hear the ache in her chest. It didn't matter how illogical it was for her to assume that time mattered to a forty pound stone. She wasn't a sissy by any means, but they say talking helped. The problem was that Astrid would rather slit her own throat than let somebody be a shoulder for her to cry on.

The wind blew a powerful gust against her spine, causing the blond to fall forward since she wasn't prepared to brace herself. Astrid landed on her hands, her face mere centimeters away from the stone. Blinking stupidly, Astrid forced out a sigh before the tiny remnants of a smile quirked the right corner of her mouth upwards. But just as soon as it appeared, it was lost again to the chilly wind. One might think it was nothing more than an illusion and that it had never actually happened. Even Astrid thought the ghost of the happy emotion was just her mind playing tricks on her.

With a discomforting cough, Astrid righted herself and placed her hands in her armpits in an attempt to warm her fingers after having touched the snow. Her usually blank face morphed into a small frown. Her eyes were glazed over, lost in thought in a place inside her mind Astrid rarely let herself wonder these days.

"Toothless is doing okay. Still a grouch. Sora's as annoying as ever." Astrid rolled her eyes at this. She couldn't smile despite how much she knew the idea would have garnered a grin from Hiccup. "I haven't had much luck getting Toothless flying again. Sorry that I'm not as gifted as you are at this." Admitting to someone that she couldn't do something stabbed at her pride, but she forced herself to swallow it. Astrid still loathed the word "sorry", but Hiccup had a knack for eliciting that word from her every so often. Likewise, he said it a fair amount of times to her despite how much she disliked hearing that word. It implied that you had done something wrong or hurt somebody else in some way. And Astrid had been adamant she could do no wrong and Hiccup was as harmless as a drunken fly. But she had been forced to grow up and he was no longer here to cheer her up.

Astrid used to shake his head at the idea of talking to a dead person. It wasn't logical and it didn't make sense. The person was dead. Their heart and soul no longer resided in the person's body. They couldn't hear you. But there had been no body. So it was just easy for Astrid to pretend that he wasn't dead than it was for her to think talking to a stone in the middle of a snowstorm was perfectly sane.

A quiet, wet laugh escaped Astrid despite her best efforts. She remembered how they used to bicker back and forth for hours on end over whether or not Hiccup was crazy. "I still think you're insane," she choked out before she felt a burning sensation across the bridge of her nose. A large part of her was desperate to hear a smart remark in defiance and two bony arms flailing around for emphasis. Astrid inhaled sharply through her nose, causing a sniffling sound. Till the day she died, Astrid would say that noise came because of the cold weather despite how she hadn't made the sound all winter before now.

At a loss, she glanced around the cemetery. It was a small plot of open land, surrounded by thick bellied trees. There were no walls or fences to protect it against vandalism. No one was around to watch you fall apart except the ghosts. Astrid didn't believe in ghosts. After everything she'd fought and witnessed, she found it hard to believe that anyone would want to linger in a world that caused them so much pain and suffering.

The cemetery was filled with her ancestors. It was very same one Berk had been using since it was first settled three hundred years ago. Astrid wouldn't be surprised if her mother was buried there somewhere. But she wasn't interested in finding out. She was in enough trouble just for being so close to the place she once called home. Ullac's cemetery was far smaller than this. Astrid thought it was shame that they'd had to make on in the first place. Ullac was barely two years old for crying out loud! But part of living was dying. If you could call their state of existence living that is.

Astrid pinched the bridge of her nose to try and ease the sudden burning sensation behind her eyes. "I guess you don't really care about time anymore, huh?" She gave another valiant attempt at humor, if only for her own sake. Both of her hands moved out of her armpits so her arms could wrap around her torso. Astrid kept telling herself it was to try and keep warm and that she did not wish somebody else was holding her. "Gods . . . Why did you have to go away like that?" It was a question that had plagued her for years. Everyone had thought about it for three years but most had shoved it to the back of their mind in favor of thinking about survival. But not Astrid. She still wondered. She still wished for an answer she knew wasn't going to come.

Breaking down was no synonym for Astrid Hofferson. She was the personification of cool, calm, and collected to her family and peers.

"I still can't say I hate you if that makes any difference."

Taking into account that nobody else was around to witness, Astrid bowed her head and closed her eyes.

"But damn - it . . . I hate how you can still do this!" Her voice had started out as a whisper and ended in a shrill plea.

She wanted it all to just stop. She wanted the desperation to go away. But, more than anything, Astrid wanted the ache and longing to leave her broken body. At the same time, if all of it were to just up and leave her, what would the girl be left with but shattered dreams and an empty shell? As much as she loathed these feelings, they were all she had to fill the void. Happiness was proving to be harder and harder to come by. There never seemed to be enough to go around.

Astrid blinked repeatedly, working her jaw furiously to try to combat against the trembling in her shoulders. She usually got along with silence very well. She could remember times when she'd gone off by herself for the sole purpose of seeking out silence to escape the insanity and chaos Vikings were renowned for. Lately though, Astrid was finding it less and less tolerable. Cemeteries were unnaturally quiet and it was eerie. A chill ran down her spine that was not a result of the freezing temperatures.

". . . Why did you have to go?" Astrid didn't know why she allowed herself to whisper the one question that had been eating away at her. "Why did the gods see fit to take you?" Her normally confident tone began to waver with each syllable. "Damn - it, Hiccup, this isn't fair!" Nevermind the fact that she was being a little selfish here. Astrid knew her cries were greedy in the sense that she missed him and _needed_him. She was also painfully aware that her pleas were falling a deaf ears.

With nobody around to observe her shattering composure, Astrid removed her right arm from around herself to reach forward and press her knuckles against the stone. She trailed her fingers across the surface to trace the outline of his first name. Her fingers were warm enough to feel the earthy lumps but cold enough to not register how its rough edges cut into her thick calluses. Her vision became blurry as she moved her eyes away from the helmet to the epitaph again. After trying to blink it away, she felt warm moisture run down her cheeks until it froze with the layers of pre-existing sweat. A wave of anger swept over the blond, but it only lasted a few seconds before it was replaced with her all too familiar feelings of loss and emptiness.

The cycle often repeated itself as such. Astrid tried not to think about Hiccup, but he had a way of creeping into her mind when she least expected it. And when he did, her ribcage would feel heavy, her stomach would sink, and her chest felt so empty it stopped her in her tracks. A brief wave of her famous wrath would wash over her, but it would only last a few seconds at most and leave her feeling worse once the negative emotion fled from her heart, leaving the widening void inside to consume another fraction of her sanity.

For a time, anger had been her best friend. It was her way of dealing with the situation they all found themselves unwillingly thrust into. Snotlout learned the hard way to stay out of her set path when the veins in her forehead looked like they were ready to burst. When Berk split ways, Astrid's wrath returned. When Ruffnut died, the young Valkyrie lost herself into a blind fit of rage and only realized she'd demolished several trees when she found Tuffnut doing the very same thing. While her violent tantrums had become fewer over time, they were no less destructive and terrifying to those unfortunate enough to incur the demon within.

Astrid pressed her index finger and thumb against her eyes when her vision began to blur to the point she couldn't tell where the helmet ended and the headstone began. "This isn't fair." Her normally calm voice had risen an octave. "How many—You don't deserve this. With a furious shake of her head, Astrid balled her fist and punched the stone's flat face right above his carved name. "How could—Why would—Just what the hell were you thinking!"

And, just like that, her notorious temper had returned.

Astrid pulled her fist back and hit the gravestone again. She balled her other hand and took a swing at it. It didn't matter that her knuckles were starting to bleed and that she was wasting precious energy. It didn't matter that any lingering ghosts might have been frowning and shaking their heads at the girl's pointless fight. And it most certainly didn't matter to Astrid that in her blind fit that her cloudy sky eyes were raining.

This went on for several minutes before Astrid felt spent and let her arms fall limply to her sides like a pair of kinked weeds. Her breathing was labored and she didn't feel any better. But she did take some satisfaction after seeing the cracks in the stone caused by her bare hands.

After a few moments of silence, Astrid managed to find her voice again.

"You—you just—this isn't fair." How many times was she going to say that? How many times had she allowed herself to think that?

And so the cycle repeated itself.

She sat like that for a long time. The only movement she made was to place her hand on headstone. After building up the courage to do so, Astrid slowly inched forward and placed a quick kiss over the second carved 'c' on his first name. Satisfied, Astrid stood up and attempted to dust the remnants of snow from her pants and shoulders. Pools of melted snow had seeped into her clothing, but there wasn't anything to be done about it. She rubbed her now numb face against her upper arm, sniffling quietly like a scorned child. And, just like that, Astrid's game-face was back in its rightful place. The blond reached down to pick up her discarded axe and Nadder helm where she had left them to be covered in layers of snow. She felt more secure just having the items with her.

Looking back toward the headstone, Astrid suddenly swallowed, pursing her lips into a fine line across her face. "I'll bring Toothless and Sora next time whether they want to talk to your ugly headstone or not." She attempted humor again if for no one's sake but her own. She coughed back a very unmanly sob. "I miss you." Her voice quivered, "Damn it, we all miss you, you idiot."

With those parting words, Astrid turned and began the lonesome walk back into hiding. She was less detached from the world now than when she had entered the forgotten cemetery. Her head was held a little higher. But the second she set foot into the shadows of the trees once more, the blond slunk down and made as little noise as possible. The only signs of her near break-down were the red puffiness of her eyes which could easily have just been blamed on the chilly winds rather than a burning sensation from an emotional buildup.

She paused once in her departure to look back at the lonely headstone with a Viking helmet that looked far too large for its original bearer. Her eyes closed as she willed any memories to her mind. Astrid tried to recall what it felt like to hold him while on the back of a Night Fury under the aurora borealis, but her arms only felt emptiness. Her lips couldn't remember what it was like to have them haphazardly crashed into his. Both of her partially bleeding fists could only remember hitting the gravestone. Her body as a whole couldn't call to mind what it felt like when she landed on him during dragon training.

And Astrid was ashamed of herself for not remembering such things.

But there were some things she could summon into mind. Astrid remembered his crooked grins and she recalled the freckles on his cheeks that crinkled together when he would offer up such a smile. She could hear his laugh mixed in with the billowing gusts of wind and rattling bare tree limbs. His green eyes with little specks of yellow were the colors of the trees and sun at the peak of spring. Those nimble little fingers of his were always working—whether creating something or simply wedging themselves between hers—to help fix whatever problems somebody might have.

Astrid felt like an old woman standing there and reminiscing about a time long gone. It was time well spent. She just wished she had more of it to spend and share with him. But you can't bring back the dead and there is no way to barter for more time. Once it's gone, that was it; there was no getting it back.

Astrid gave a soft, almost mute chuckle.

In that retrospect, she had no regrets.

It was a little saddening that she'd had to learn such a harsh lesson at such a young age.

There was a renewed look of determination about her that was evident in her strides as the young Valkyrie went on the face the world. One that could not be broken nor had it been witnessed by mortal men for years. A sense of perseverance that would remain as elusive a sight as observing a Night Fury in full flight in a starless midnight sky.

"Until we meet again . . ."

The blond finally turned away.

To face the hardships brought about by an unforgiving environment.

To hunt for sustenance that could mean the difference between waking up tomorrow or dying in her sleep.

And she would be successful too, because nobody beats Astrid Hofferson.

* * *

**FOOT NOTES:**

• While writing this, I was listening to _Who Knew_ by P!nk and _Second Chance_ by Shinedown. More so on the former than the latter.

• In Norse mythology, Ask and Embla (from Old Norse _Askr ok Embla_)—male and female respectively—were the first two humans, created by the gods.


	15. Sick

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**:

• I do not own _How To Train Your Dragon_. _HTTYD_ belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell_._

• I do not own _Kingdom Hearts_. _KH_ belongs to Tetsuya Nomunra and Square Enix.

* * *

❝ Whatever you say, say it with conviction. ❞

- Mark Twain

* * *

This.

Totally.

Sucked.

Being sick wasn't completely uncommon. Being young when an illness overcame you was even more so. But not her. Nuh - uh. Astrid Hofferson did not do _sick_ and was by far one of the most stubborn members of her generation. She continued her daily training regiment even when under the weather. Astrid had a stellar bill of health and her track record was hardly marred. But she was only mortal and feeling less than her usual self was bound to happen at some point down the road.

And when she got a bug in her system, Astrid was downright miserable.

It had started out as nothing major. Just a slight fever and some aching joints. Her mother hadn't seemed too bothered by the small spike in body temperature and her dad just smacked her on the back as was the Viking equivalent of encouragement. Birdbrain, on the other hand, would have none of it. The Nadder took two sniffs before all but shoving Astrid back into the house with her nose. Ever since, Birdbrain had remained on duty to make sure the blond didn't sneak out of the house. Even now, Astrid could hear the turquoise dragon adjust her position on the roof above her head. Since the front door still hadn't been enlarged to accommodate the latest member of the Hofferson family, Birdbrain had settled for taking up roost on top of the house. She would have likely built a nest up there if Phlegma wasn't so against the idea. Both of her parents were still trying to get used to the beast being there and likely wished the Nadder would stay with the other dragons in their designated vertical nests dotting Berk.

Astrid groaned into the pillow as she flipped herself onto her right side. Her fever had gotten worse and her back felt really sore. She curled up into a ball, wrapping herself up in her parents' bed quilts to form a cloth cocoon. The blond had moved to her parents' room some time ago since it was the warmest place in the house and their large bed gave her more options to try and find a comfortable position. Its sturdy oaken frame was almost tall enough to reach Astrid's shoulders. The mattress was thicker than her own too. She had to literally pull herself up onto their mattress using her arm strength alone. Such a task was easy on normal days. But on a day when her elbows, shoulders, and wrists were sore and radiating heat, Astrid needed a bit of a bounce to give her the added boost to make the small climb. Whenever her parents returned home, they might be shocked to see their only child swaddled up on their bed and would be met with her adamant refusal to move. Astrid had all but claimed the bed as her own today. She had inherited her mother's stubbornness after all. Knowing her dad, he would let her have his side of the bed tonight even if Phlegma was against the idea.

She'd made sure to remove her boots before climbing into the bed so she didn't risk soiling her parents' mattress with whatever dirt clung to her footwear. Both of her metal pauldrons had been discarded on the floor along with her spiked skirt. She had on her dark blue trousers and patterned green shirt. Her tan wraps on her hands and forearms had been left on. But she had made an amendment in her attire before crawling under the covers. One her parents would surely find strange. The idea had come as a last minute idea and Astrid wasn't even sure where it came from. But it persisted and eventually Astrid caved after convincing herself it was merely to have another layer on. The thicker garment still felt strange against her skin, but for some reason she felt a bit more at ease with it on. She wasn't even sure why she still had the darn thing when she should have given it back a while ago. If Hiccup even knew she still had his shirt, he never gave an indication that he wanted it back. The dark green tunic was baggy on her torso and arms. It hung off of her collar bone even if she pulled the strings as tight as possible. Astrid vaguely remembered Hiccup saying it was a little big on him and now she believed him with how much it swallowed her thin frame. She found it nothing short of a miracle that the sleeves weren't so long they covered her hands.

She sincerely hoped nobody found her like this. Her parents already knew about her illness and that was two people too many. She doubted either of them or Birdbrain would rat her out. The twins would never let her hear the end of it if either of them found out that Astrid Hofferson was like everybody else when it came to having a randomly faulty immunity system. She doubted anything would change if Fishlegs were to find out, but she still didn't like the idea of the big blubbering oaf discovered her illness fluke. Astrid didn't even want to imagine what Snotlout would do if he discovered that she was feeling under the weather. He'd probably dote on her and make her feel useless with how little he would let her do on her own. There was the chance Sora might find out, but the little goofball had the potential of trying alien concoctions on her and claim they always made him feel better. The brunette seemed more concerned about the well being of others than his own. And then there was the possibility that Hiccup could find out about it and Astrid couldn't even begin to fathom how the scrawnier Viking would take to the new development. And she was wearing one of his shirts on top of it. That one would be a pain to explain away and Hiccup would be too curious for his own good until he got an explanation that he was satisfied with. And said explanation would be hard to come by since even Astrid had no idea why she was wearing it.

Astrid stared ahead at the wall across from her. There were no pictures on the wall. Cameras and photographs hadn't been invented yet and wouldn't be for a few hundred years. There were no trophies of felled dragons decorating the wooden barriers. Most were either in the living room or removed from the house completely after the coming of the dragons. However there was the pelt of a large cat hanging above the bed's headboard that Astrid didn't recognize that her mother said she'd slain on one of her voyages. It was a rich orange color, lined in fine white fur, and decorated with intricate black stripe patterns. It's massive head was filled with sharp teeth and trapped in a perpetual snarl. Phelgma had once called if a "tiger" if Astrid's memory served her correctly.

People were still debating on what to call the events that had transpired at the hands of Berk's most unlikely Viking. Honestly, Astrid didn't care to partake in the deliberation. She didn't care if her name was put down in history as one of the original dragon riders. Astrid just wanted to live her life. To be remembered by those who knew her and not by some exaggerated myth was enough. And as pathetic as it made her sound, Astrid just wanted to spend the rest of her life with Hiccup.

Biting back a second groan, Astrid rolled onto her left side. Part of her was glad nobody would find her for another couple of hours. While she enjoyed garnering some attention, it had to be because she had accomplished something. Worrying other people - especially those most important to her - put the blond on edge. And being under house arrest was probably one of the worst ways to spend the day. What made it even more terrible was that she was likely the only person in all of Berk who couldn't be outside to make the most out of one of the last days of good weather before the ice and snow set in. Meaning while everybody else was out and being productive, Astrid was left alone to feel miserable. She normally reveled in the feeling of solitude but now she almost wished she was anywhere else but here. Birdbrain likely wished to be inside, but there was no way they'd be able to squeeze the massive beast inside the front door.

"Eg veit eit sted oppe i mellan asen."

It came in a quiet tone. Each carefully pronounced syllable hung in the stale air while it waited on the others to join them. It was nowhere near the famed esteem of a Valkyrie, but it wasn't anywhere near horrible either. Astrid had never been one for singing and never gave anyone the chance to hear her normally sharp tongue change into a hushed lullaby. Unsure of where she was going with this or why she was even allowing herself to shame the Old Norse words on her cracked notes and sore throat, Astrid took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

She couldn't remember for the life of her where she remembered hearing the words she sang and wasn't exactly sure of their true meaning. But Astrid could recall someone singing the words to her when she was much smaller. She highly doubted her mother would ever utter such softly spoken lyrics and when her father sang, it sounded more like shouting and it was always some traditional war song.

A small smile began to pull at her lips.

"Kor masene mjuk og trea kaster skugge."

Astrid could have sworn she could hear the late summer gulls crying out as they flew over the ocean. She sprawled herself on her back beneath the heavy quilts and fancied she could smell the thick pine wafting down over Berk from the forest.

Here she stopped in her singing to slowly sit upright, letting the fleece covering pool around her.

Her house suddenly felt cold. How Astrid could feel the torrential shivers traveling down her spine when she was running such a high fever must have been some trick of the gods. The blond pulled her parents' quilts closer to her quaking form, but they did little to battle against the chill. Astrid pulled some of them over her head so that only her face remained uncovered. Yet she continued to silently shudder. The quaking in her bones only seemed to increase with each passing minute.

Growing a little scared, Astrid tried to think of warm thoughts as a way to mentally trick her nerves. She thought of the sun, of fire, and she even allowed herself to fancy the idea of hugging Hiccup. Realizing what she was daydreaming, Astrid's eyes widened before she furiously shook her head, causing the blanket to fall to her shoulders. Just what the heck was wrong with her! A few months ago and the idea of sharing the same breathing space as him would have annoyed her to no end and now Astrid was imagining squeezing him as a sign of affection! Her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink as the heat from her head rushed down and flooded her entire body.

Astrid wanted to be annoyed. She wanted to become frustrated and proclaim that she was being downright stupid. But why should she? It's not like anybody could see or hear her from her parents' bedroom. So she took a deep breath instead. All too quickly the warmth drained from her body. Almost instantly Astrid found herself pining for the thermal embrace all over again. And, once again, Astrid cursed herself and tried to force her mind to think of something else that would thaw her freezing limbs.

If there was one thing Astrid had learned from the past couple of months it was that one of the warmest experiences short of setting a part of yourself on fire was to lean against a full dragon's belly. Birdbrain would often sit on the ground after having a meal, her long and powerful legs sprawled out before her with a pleased croon forming in the turquoise and yellow scaled dragon's long neck. It was therapeutic on her aching muscles after a long day of training. The vibrations from Birdbrain's pleased humming massaged Astrid's aching joints. It warmed her entire being, from her skin down to her very core, and continued to give a steady amount of heat for several hours. Whether it was because dragons were fire-breathers and a full stomach meant more fuel or because of something else entirely, Astrid really didn't care. Just thinking about it made the blond wish Birdbrain could fit in the house. She made a mental note to pester Hiccup into helping her convince her parents to enlarge the front door. He'd promised to help her when the subject was brought up again after all.

And, just like that, Astrid's mind was back on the brunette.

Muttering an oath to herself, Astrid took a breath and decided to try and lose herself in her lullaby.

"Eg veit ein gut, den stautaste ta alle."

She paused after vocalizing the next line as she tried to recall the meaning of the words. Her memory was fuzzy, but when Astrid was finally able to call forth the word's meaning, she groaned and flopped back onto her parents' bed. Her right eye twitched in annoyance. If there was a god of irony, they must have been rolling on the floor with laughter at the blond's blunder.

Unwittingly, Astrid found herself oddly warm again. She blamed the delusion she was feeling onto her illness. Her body curled in on itself as the blond's head disappeared beneath the covers. Both arms wrapped around her gut as she brought her knees up to her chin. Her stomach felt funny. Astrid chalked that one up to having blown chunks shortly after eating breakfast when a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Her entire face felt like it was on fire, to which Astrid related it to being a delayed result of her fever.

When the sensation didn't lessen after several prolonged minutes, Astrid began to chew on her lower lip. Unsure of where to go from here, she allowed herself a breath of warm air. The bed had an odd sent that she was all too unfamiliar with. Even as a little girl she equated the stench to her parents and found some small sort of comfort in their quilts. But now that conciliation wasn't as helpful as it had been when she was barely nine years old.

So Astrid did the only thing she could think of.

She closed her eyes and continued to sing.

"Auge ljose i morkret, "_Vil du staden sja_?"

The word's meaning didn't take as long for her to recall. This time the desire to be out and about, enjoying the last of the sunny weather for the year returned. And if Astrid wanted to get out, she was gonna have to somehow sneak past Birdbrain. Even if she was able to bypass the alert dragon, there was still the matter of avoiding her parents and anyone they might have discussed their daughter's illness with. At the most they might have informed the village healer or maybe even the Elder. Hopefully they knew better than to let their child's peers know about her current condition.

Maybe she would have better luck sneaking out since the sun starting to go down. Astrid hadn't realized just how late the in the day it was since she'd been sitting around at home all afternoon. Most of the day had been wasted on naps though. She should have foreseen this since the days grew shorter with winter fast approaching. Human eyesight could only distinguish so much in the dimly lit night. Birdbrain would still present a problem with her keen sense of smell and she always seemed to have a strong inkling toward the mischief of the youthful. There was a small chance Astrid could bribe the Nadder into letting her pass while she was distracted by a meal. Birdbrain would be furious once she realized she'd been duped.

Astrid suddenly bolted upright and flung her parents quilts off of her. And just as quickly wave of nausea swam over her. She doubled over and held her stomach. By the gods, just what had she done to be cursed with suck an illness? A few shivers traveled up her spine in rapid precession. Astrid didn't feel cold, but she knew she was going to need to find a bucket soon else she might upchuck all over her parents clean sheets. The blond took several deep, slow breaths to quell her temperamental stomach. It did her little good.

With a weak moan, Astrid flopped back onto the bed, her head falling lifelessly onto her mother's pillow. Her body began to curl up again. Her parents' quilts lay forgotten just out of her reach. It took several minutes before the squeamish feeling in her gut subsided into a tolerable level. Astrid didn't want to test moving around just yet, so she sucked in another breath and attempted to sing another line of the lullaby. "Eg ventar til dag—", she began but was cut off by a series of hoarse coughs and her stomach performing a twisted backflip. She wasn't in any pain, but Astrid wished her abdomen would stop squirming around.

Slowly Astrid brought herself to the edge of the bed and eased her bare feet onto the cold wood planks that made up the flooring material throughout the house. The chilled boards were oddly soothing and Astrid had to fight the urge to bend down and press her cheek against them. With utmost care she pulled herself completely off of her parents' bed to stand up. After that last coughing fit Astrid could use a drink. She pulled one of her parents' smaller quilts off with her, wrapped herself up in the intricately woven fabric, and slowly made her way to the kitchen.

She really didn't want to give the failed line another go over her itchy throat, but Astrid was stubborn and did it anyway.

"Eg ventar til dagen er omme for eg til staden fer."

Astrid paused halfway to the kitchen area after quietly singing the line. The blond looked out of a nearby window to gauge just how late in the day it was. She envied those high up in the clouds on the backs of dragons for one last evening flight. The sun was slowly starting to set in the distance. The vast majority of the villagers were getting ready to head home. The sky was reluctantly changing from a murky blue to a dull black. Her parents would be home before too much longer and by then any chances Astrid had of sneaking out would be lost until tomorrow.

Making an audible swallow, Astrid unlatched the window and pushed it open. The chilly wind that pushed its way inside caused a new wave of shivers to travel down her spine. She did her best to ignore it even as her jaw rapidly opened and closed, causing a soft chattering sound as her teeth gnashed together in quick succession. The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. Her already pale skin looked bloodless and felt like ice. Instinctively, Astrid pulled her parents quilt as close as possible to her bony frame. She began to regret not pulling her boots back on when she climbed out of her parents' bed. The blond's sporadic body temperature was taking a ninety degree dive southward.

There was no way this was a good idea. There was no way she'd be able to get away with leaving without facing some kind of consequence. Astrid's earlier desire to something to drink was forgotten. She took a shaky breath and through her gnashing teeth, she sang another line.

"Set meg ned pa hella, tru om han kjem?"

Birdbrain must have heard her hushed tune as the turquoise Nadder twittered comfortingly above the young Viking's head. Astrid blinked several times. As carefully as possible, Astrid released her grip on the quilt with one hand to grab the bottom edge of the opened window. She leaned forward to stick her head out and craned her eyes up as far as possible to try and find the dragon. The tip of Birdbrain's beaked nose could be seen peeking over the edge of the roof.

Astrid wanted to call out to the Nadder. But if Birdbrain already knew she was there, then it was up the dragon to approach her. Astrid knew it was going to be risky, but she pulled herself up to sit on the windowsill. She carefully turned herself around so that her feet were dangling outside. The chilly wind bit at her bare feet as goosebumps took up every inch of her skin.

Taking a quick breath, Astrid gave herself to little push she needed and fell.

Her feet were met with cold grass and frozen earth. The second she felt the soil against the soles of her feet, Birdbrain tittered again and jumped down from the roof. The Nadder looked a little miffed and gently butted her nose against Astrid's stomach to try and encourage her to go back inside. One amber eye spotted her bare feet and, if Birdbrain had any feathers, they would have been ruffled up at the sight. Astrid's suppressed a laugh as she reached out and gently messaged the dragon's chin. Birdbrain chortled a happy tune, pressing her noggin closer to Astrid's torso as a sign instigate further attention giving.

This went on for several minutes until Astrid's feet were nearly numb from the cold. She considered climbing back in through the window, but she had already made it this far. It was only a few more yards before she reached her intended destination.

No sooner had she taken a step forward and ceased the scratches did Birdbrain snap to attention and bar her way. Astrid frowned despite the sniffling noise she made thanks to the cold. Again, Birdbrain ignored her and lowered her head to butt Astrid's side with her curved nose. Astrid was preparing herself for a one-sided fight before she realized the dragon was nudging her away from the window. Confused, the blond allowed the dragon to guide her a few feet before the pair came to a stop. They were just far enough that nobody could see them passing by the house unless they were specifically looking for a barefoot "knight" wrapped up in a quilt and her blue "noble" steed.

Birdbrain then turned her head to butt Astrid's stomach to press her closer to the dragon's warm scales. She kept her cranium lowered, giving a soft croon of encouragement. The Nadder nudged Astrid again with the side of her face, unsure if the blond would understand what she was trying to convey in the first place.

It took several minutes of gentle nudges, but Astrid eventually was able to put two and two together despite how fuzzy her mind was starting to feel. She offered a soft smile as she reached out to grasp the Nadder's hooked nasal horn. After giving a happy hooting sound, Birdbrain slowly lifted her head up and curved her neck backwards. With some guided help, Astrid managed to position herself on the dragon's shoulders. Each of her bare feet hung off of the sides of the Nadder's thin neck. It was contradictory of her illness, but it was the best way to secure her position since Birdbrain wasn't wearing her saddle. The turquoise dragon proffered to go bareback anyway. The blond pulled her parents' quilt tightly around her once more and pulled part of fabric over her head to try and conceal her braid and face. So long as nobody recognized the Nadder, then they would be in the clear.

Satisfied, Birdbrain raised herself back up to her full height. She was careful in her steps to not jostle her slightly woozy passenger. Something Astrid was very grateful for. Nadders were not known for being clumsy and Birdbrain seemed to embody this particular trait. And, thankfully, the dragon knew to take the back way to lower the chances of being distinguish from the other Nadders in the village.

With a small smile, Astrid leaned forward to rest against the Nadder's raised neck. She loosely wrapped her arms around the dragon's throat as she pressed her cheek against Birdbrain's cool scales. The dragon's long walking gate didn't bob up and down like one would think from such a long - legged beast. She towered over the heads of your average Viking. Birdbrain was taking care to avoid any sudden dips, sharp turns, or abrupt rises. Having only lived within Berk for a few months, the Nadder had been quick to learn the terrain of the cliffside village from following Astrid around like a mother hen those first few weeks. She didn't know the place like the back of her wing, but it was better here than it had ever been back at the nest.

Everyone seemed like they had better things to do than pay attention to a Nadder passing through. Not too long ago and such a bold sight would have made some heads roll. Especially since said dragon looked as if she owned the very ground she tread upon. Birdbrain walked with her head held high, a confident sway in her step, her bright pigments drastically contrasting with the dull browns and grays of the village, and yet not one spike was raised in agitation or distress. The all too familiar sight would have baffled the mind if somebody discovered time travel and brought the news to the olden days.

The population traversing the village was thinning due to the early evening hours. The sun had started to descend a while ago. While most of the Vikings were used to it, it was still a somber thought to some knowing the sun wouldn't be up in the sky to warm the world as much as it used to. The moon's polar chill was a near constant around this time of the year. Thankfully, it was still too early in the season for the walls of snow and icicles as wide around as a grown man's bicep. Astrid kept her head down regardless. She focused on watching the rocks and beaten pathways Birdbrain chose to saunter in order to pass the time to avoid drawing attention to herself. If anybody found her bare feet strange, nobody tried to stop the Nadder on a mission.

Their destination? The warmest place on Berk. At least that was going to be Astrid's excuse if anyone dared to draw near Birdbrain to question their motives.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a clicking sound. The swift repetition of vibrations beneath her caused Astrid to blink several times and lift her head up to see below the dragon's wide lower jaw. They couldn't have been walking for more than a couple of minutes and they were already reaching the end of their little trek through Berk.

The building up ahead seemed large on the outside compared to the houses that dotted the cliff side, but the inside was crammed full of weapons of varying purposes and odd little nick-knacks that had piled up over long years of experimentation. Parts of the building were made of lumber, but the majority was constructed of stone and possibly metal in places. There was smoke billowing up from a stone chimney, indicating the activity to surely be going on inside. Despite the cold, there were several uncovered openings and a blazing fire roared from within. Just being within a few feet of the structure and the air already felt warmer.

"Eg vert so varm, kjenner kor hjartet banker."

Astrid sat up as they neared the village forge. She had not realized she'd even sung the next line. She'd completely forgotten about the lullaby up until then. Not that anyone would have been able to hear her over the rolling flames that sucked up all the surrounding oxygen. The sound of her own voice nearly startled her, but Astrid was far too concentrated on where they were going to pay it much heed.

Birdbrain came to gradual stop in front of building next to the open - ended front counter. A lot of the adults would stand outside the wooden workbench to request weapon repairs during the old dragon raids. The Nadder knelt down to give Astrid a better vantage point inside. There was no way Birdbrain was going to allow the barefoot Viking to tread the frigid clay. Astrid attempted to scoot forward and pulled the _hood_ of her parents' quilt back behind her head.

"If ye're look'n for Hiccup, he's not here."

Astrid was somehow able to wrangle back a shriek as she nearly fell off of Birdbrain. The Nadder herself was startled enough to leave her kneeling pose and take a step back. The voice laughed wholeheartedly, giving themselves away with its sheer booming volume. Gobber leaned over the countertop, a smug grin showing on his already lopsided face. Astrid composed herself as quickly as possible. She offered up an annoyed scowl before softening up out of pure curiosity. One caliginous eyebrow rose up to vanish behind her veil of pale blond bangs. Birdbrain seemed just as confused as she cocked her noggin to the side and twittered impatiently.

Gobber gave no indication that cared as he wiped a layer of sweat from his brow with his right forearm. "I'll not have him sneezing around the shop while he's handle'n hot metal," he explained as he switched out the iron tongs of his absent left hand to his empty tankard. "The ingrate thought I wanted to catch his cold and came into work today knowing I was gonna send him home!" Gobber paused in his work to look the pair over. He noted Astrid's appearance and Birdbrain's fairly lax posture. If not for the chilly weather, the two looked like they could have just been out on an evening stroll.

Uttering a tired sigh, Gobber dropped the iron tongs on the counter. He rolled his eyes as if this was a big bother to him. The knowing smirk on his face said otherwise. "Do me a favor would ye?" Not giving time for Astrid to agree or object, Gobber pressed onward as if he was talking to himself. "Go knock some sense into him. I don't care what ch'ye have to do either." The older Viking continued to smirk as if he was trying to hint at some underlying information. Astrid's eyebrow rose further before it dawned on her. All she could do was stare at the man crowing with laughter. "Now shoo! I'm closing up shop early today." Gobber waved her off with his genuine hand as if he had better things to do that enlighten the wayward blond as to just where she should be heading. It was obvious after all.

Taking the initiative, Birdbrain departed from the forge with only the sound of Gobber's laughter to echo behind them. It would have sounded almost demonic now that he was dousing the roaring fires with water. His guffaws weren't harmonized with the hissing of the dying flames, making it all the more creepy. Astrid shook herself to rid the sound from her mind. She had other things to focus on. Like not being recognized by anyone or losing all blood flow to her feet.

Astrid pulled her hood back up and reached down to massage the bottom of her feet in an attempt to regain circulation through them. It was a rather fruitless effort, but it gave a means to pass the time. Unfortunately, given their latest objective, they weren't going to be able to avoid the crowds quite so well. While most of the town was heading toward the Meade Hall for a long night of drinking, telling stories around a fire, scarfing down a hearty meal of meat and bread, and other general pleasantries, Astrid and Birdbrain were heading toward the house off to the side. Everyone knew who resided within the residence and nearly the entire population knew why someone like Astrid would be out on an evening stroll through town in that direction. Hardly anybody could deny her the time and dedication she had willingly put into her relationship with the chief's son, but that didn't mean some wouldn't find it weird or something they would only hear about from a child's storybook.

Birdbrain passed the feeding bowl set out near a center point in town. A few dragons were already sitting around, awaiting a free meal. It was a nice change from scavenging to give the late dragon queen her "free" meals. Some dragons found the sudden change in roles hard to take in and understand while others were relishing in the new treatment. Birdbrain switched between the roles. While she loved an easy meal, the Nadder would hunt for her own meat whenever the opportunity presented itself. She hadn't eaten much of anything today though due to fretting over her ill rider. And while she was hungry, Birdbrain's concern was on the care of her fragile human. Astrid had eaten hardly anything today due to her twisting stomach. And Birdbrain couldn't bring herself to be fussy over an empty stomach when she was fully capable of catching her own food.

Honestly, the only reason she was carting her young charge around despite Astrid's illness was because Birdbrain had hoped the girl's male familiar would be able to coax the Viking to take better care of herself. The Nadder couldn't get inside the Hofferson household just yet and there was also the issue of communication barriers. And she had heard the girl's soft singing coupled with her uncomfortable squirming and groaning. Not once since the girl's sire left after checking up on her had Birdbrain heard the familiar clanking of dishes, meaning Astrid had not eaten anything in several hours. It was troubling to think about, but Birdbrain couldn't shove the food down her rider's throat.

While they had their bouts in the past, Birdbrain felt putting Astrid in Hiccup's care would do her some good. She'd seen the way the pair acted around one another. Astrid fussed over him all the time. The boy didn't even have to be present and Astrid would complain about something or another the small human heir had said or done. Astrid was too stubborn to accept help from nearly anyone. And Hiccup had managed to convince the lively blond to assist him on a number of different occasions. Hopefully his persuasion skills (or lack thereof) would work once more.

But with Hiccup supposedly not feeling well, that put a small kink in Birdbrain's plans. Still, if Hiccup was sick, and Astrid was sick, then maybe they could take care of each other. From what Birdbrain had observed and learned from the Night Fury, the boy was just as stubborn as Astrid when it came to being under the weather or facing daunting odds. And when you put the pair together, they helped to balance each other out and could often find a compromise they both could live with. They were the weirdest pair of beings Birdbrain had even met. Even newly hatched dragons quarreled less than those two and yet they got along and worked together better than some of the seasoned adult dragons. It still baffled Birdbrain's mind to think that her young charge and the youthful savior of her race worked out as the others' counterpart. Such a match of personalities just didn't seem to add up. All Birdbrain could assume was it was because they were human, and humans didn't always do what nature intended.

Birdbrain paused at the foot of the stone steps leading toward the front door. She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't realized she'd climbed the hill up to the house. The Nadder cocked her head to the side to look at her passenger. Astrid was looking up at the oaken door, a torn expression on her face. Birdbrain gave a light whistle to gain her attention. The blond blinked several times, shook her head, and pulled the quilt as close to her body as possible.

Was she getting cold feet? Physically, her feet were indeed cold. If she wasn't already sick, she'd be miserable by morning.

But metaphorically speaking?

Was this okay? Was this the right thing to do? If they were both sick, would swinging by for a visit seem desperate for his company or pathetic? Or would they both just catch the others' illness and feel even crummier? Astrid didn't know the answers. She shook all over at the thought of being sent back home. Rejection was not something Astrid had ever experienced. So then why was she so hesitant? Any other time and she would have kicked down his front door if she knew Hiccup was feeling unwell. So then why was this any different? Was her being sick as well really that big of a deal?

Apparently, Birdbrain wasn't going to have put up with any of this second guessing. They hadn't known each other for very long, but even the Nadder knew such mental turmoils were out of Astrid's normal jurisdiction. So she knelt down and tucked her wings in as close to her body as she possibly could, showing clear as day that she wasn't going anywhere until Astrid dismounted.

Sighing, but internally grateful, Astrid eased herself so that both legs were dangling off of the left side of Birdbrain's neck. The Nadder rotated her shoulder as a show of impatience. The mood would have normally put Astrid off, but she also knew what the dragon was trying to convey. So she blew up into her bangs before pushing herself off.

The second her feet touched the ground, Astrid began to regret it. Either her feet had gotten colder or the ground Hiccup's house was built on had once been a block of ice. Her shoulders stiffened and her teeth started to chatter once again. She began to rub her arms and pull the quilt tighter around her torso despite the long sleeve tunic Astrid was still wearing. It only dawned on her then that she was still wearing his shirt. And she was about to try and enter his house? What was she thinking!

She wasn't given a chance to try and remount Birdbrain though. Not only was Birdbrain already standing up again but the door opened.

And Astrid's heart nearly stopped.

Well, that is until she realized who was standing before her.

Sora hadn't noticed her yet since he had his head turned and was yelling something back inside the house. "I know; no eels!" Something was being shouted back at him, but Astrid couldn't make out anything past recognizing it was Hiccup's voice and registering that he sounded more off - key than usual. The news perturbed her as her brow furrowed in a clear sign of concern. Her previous conflicting thoughts were long forgotten.

Sora shut the door behind him before looking ahead. And nearly walking straight into Astrid. The brunette stumbled backwards, nearly slamming his back into the door. Now that he was facing her, Astrid could get a better look at him.

His normal attire hadn't been altered for the coming winter months yet. Something that was going to likely change sooner rather than later. There was a wicker basket hanging limply off of his right shoulder. It looked like a similar model to the one Astrid had spotted Hiccup totting around shortly before her first confrontation with Toothless. Quite possibly the oddest thing about his outfit was the leather apron hanging off of his neck and tied around his waist. It was smeared with a fluffy off-white substance near the middle of the left side. If memory served Astrid right, it was Hiccup's work apron. It seemed to fit Sora's scrawny physique until the apron reached his puffy shorts. From there down the leather garment seemed too thin for the boy despite his bony calves sticking out from beneath the black fabric. The bottom hem hung just below Sora's knees.

Spitfire's head was sticking out over Sora's left shoulder. Apparently, the dragon had wormed his way beneath Sora's jacket to fight off the evening chill. His tail hung down down Sora's back and wrapped around the boy's ribcage as if the brunette was Spitfire's only lifeline to reality. The tail was beneath the apron, indicating that Spitfire had been ready to go before Sora put the odd garment on. And both of the Terror's wings were neatly tucked in to hang in the hood of jacket.

Confusion must have been written across her face too. Sora chuckled lightly as he lifted the apron up to examine the smear. "I was making mashed potatoes and kinda got carried away." Apparently the boy's innate fear of potatoes was only active when said spuds were in Astrid's hands. Shortly after saying this, however, Sora quirked an eyebrow and a flash of concern consumed his outlandishly blue eyes. "You're gonna catch a cold if you walk around barefoot," he chastised while wagging a finger in front of her nose. Astrid glared at him, but she didn't have the energy to pull off her characteristically fierce demeanor. Sora seemed unfazed as a result. "I'm going out to get more ingredients for dinner. Hiccup's feeling under the weather so I volunteered." The explanation wasn't necessary, but Sora had a reason for saying this. "Can you keep an eye on him with Toothless while I'm out? I'll only be gone a little while and I can pick up enough to feed all of us." After he said this, he looked to Birdbrain. "I'll grab some chicken if I can." How he knew that Nadders preferred poultry over all the other kinds of meat was likely Fishlegs' fault. Sora liked to hang out with the other boy whenever Hiccup and Astrid were too busy to keep him company.

Sora was, like Gobber before him, not going to give Astrid a chance to object. He side - steeped around her and took off running. Dragon and Viking watched him disappear into town as he weaved a ducked past the older folks like he'd been doing it his entire life. Astrid vaguely wondered how Sora intended to get the food, but decided against trying to figure it out and looked back toward the front door.

Birdbrain gently butted her nose against the small of Astrid's back. The blond was a little nervous, but at least now she felt more at ease since somebody other than her dragon knew she was here. And Sora had requested her assistance in wrangling in the stubborn Hiccup. Something she was steadily becoming an expert at. It was almost a frightening thought to consider, but Astrid was fine with it. At least she could say she was paying attention to him. That's more than she could have claimed a few months ago. And while Astrid was still mentally beating herself up over the treatment she'd given Hiccup, she also knew she couldn't change the past. She could only work toward making a better future.

Taking a deep breath, Astrid put her hand to the thick oaken door and prepared herself to walk inside. Thor only knew what state Sora, Hiccup, and the dragons had left the house in. But, right as she was about to push the large structure forward, a thought dawned on her.

She hadn't sung the last line of the lullaby.

Never one to leave a job unfinished, Astrid took a small breath and softly sung the final lyrics as to not be overheard by anyone else. And, as soon as the last syllable was vocalized, Astrid pushed the door open and headed inside.

"Kom, kom hit hja meg, ta meg i den favn."

* * *

**FOOT** **NOTES**:

• The lyrics for the song are from the song _Lokk (Calling)_ by Storm.

• The English translations for the lyrics are as follows:

_I know a place up inbetween the hills_

_Where the gulls cry and the trees cast shadows_

_I know a boy, the kindest of them all_

_Eyes shining in the darkness, "Do you want to see the town?"_

_I wait till the day is over before I travel towards the town_

_Sitting down on the stone, I wonder if he comes?_

_I grow so warm, feeling how the heart beats_

_Come, come here to me, take me in your embrace_

• Oh the fluff. Shoot me in the foot. The right one's already messed up, so shoot that one.[/size][/list][list][list]


	16. Accidents Happen

**Author's Notes:**

• Please excuse my extended absence. To be honest, I've still been writing. I've just been neglecting my account here for one reason or another. But I'm not gonna get into that since it's menial and unimportant.

• I don't even know anymore. I just had a heyday with this. It's all one massive brain-fart, I swear!

• I do not own _Kingdom Hearts_ or _How To Train Your Dragon_. They belong to Square Enix / Tetsuya Nomura and Dreamworks / Cressida Cowell respectively.

* * *

Vikings had a strange sense of humor. Between their _eccentric_ way of showing affection towards one another, booming voices that commanded attention, over-the-top adventurous anecdotes of past crusades, and violent promises of bodily harm it was strange to think of any of them acting like a "normal" civilized human being. But the men and women of Berk were "civilized" if you went by Viking standards. And their children was quick to absorb and take in that brutal behavior.

Well, almost all of the children.

And, right now, Sora wished he was with the only non-violent person on the entire frozen isle.

His heart was racing; hammering a violent beat against his ribcage. It might have sounded like the drums of war to anyone who listened. Every single beat left a lingering sentiment to its coming predecessors to continue the rhythm; to continue fighting and living. His feet pounded against the dirt, kicking up a flurry of dust and pebbles behind him despite the recent freak rain storm to rock the island. The blood in his veins fought against the chill traveling up his spine at the sound of a shrill cackle - almost like that of a witch - that cut through the humid air. The sharp rocks and rough pathways that traversed the entirety of the village dug into his bare feet and Sora was positive they were going to be sore later. He was gasping for air, fighting to maintain his balance at every sharp turn. The metal links of his necklace bounced against his neck with the silver crown left to freely smack against his chest. He darted between buildings, dove behind barrels, deftly wove between dragons, and deviated from the stone pathways as much as he could. The only problem was that Sora was literally running in circles around the village instead of reaching his destination. For all he knew, he'd plowed past the village forge five or six times by now!

With all the dignity any fifteen year old could muster, Sora yelped when he felt two long arms ensnare him around his waist.

He squirmed and kicked, latching onto whatever he could and shouting as many protests that he could think of. The idea of people invading his personal bubble against his will was far from pleasant. Sora continued to shriek when he realized he was being forcibly moved. The grip on him refused to slacken. If Sora was the vengeful type, he would have been plotting Tuffnut's demise the second he realized he was in for a long game of tag.

Sora couldn't understand what Tuffnut was shouting over the uproar of his own objections and Ruffnut's gleeful cackle behind him. It would appear they were making a beeline for the Great Hall. Definitely not the pathway Sora desired to follow right now. In fact, it was almost the _exact opposite_ of the direction he'd been trying to seek sanctuary in from the mischievous twins. His pupils dilated to twice their original size. As much as Sora hated to do it, he went ahead and did something completely out of his normal character.

He bit Tuffnut's forearm.

The male twin howled in pain, dropping Sora like a sack of potatoes. Putting aside the analogy involving his developing fear for the brown spuds, Sora took off running again the second his feet touched the ground. If the Great Hall was behind him, then that meant the forge should be just down the road and a few turns away. Oh yeah! Home free!

Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be that easy.

Sora glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Snotlout joining in on the chase.

Worse still, Sora tripped over his own feet and found himself sprawled out on his back with nothing but the open sky to face him. Well, that, and his feet were up in the air and he could see those too. Oh look, there's a house! And, maybe Sora was mistaken, but that one cloud looked like a bunny.

Okay, now was not the time for a hearty round of _Guess-That-Fluffy-Shape-In-The-Sky_!

Thinking fast, Sora rolled to the side, planting all four - yes, four - feet on the ground, and took off running again. He couldn't have had better timing. The second he shifted out position, Tuffnut landed where he had been previously deposited by gravity in a body slam, thus switching their roles effectively. Seconds later, Ruffnut tackled him, hardly paying any attention to Sora at this point. The brunette didn't stick around long enough to see how Snotlout was going to handle the situation as he charged onward, desperate to put as much space between himself and the crazy Thorston twins.

It'd been so long since he last felt like he was sprinting in a marathon that Sora wasn't used to it anymore. He recalled the first incident. It wasn't one of the brunette's fondest memories while traversing the known universe. Being chased by hyenas was fairly high on his list of things he'd rather not do again. If it weren't for Scar's impeccable timing, Sora wasn't so certain if he would've been around to take down Xemnas.

He didn't know why this was happening or even how it had come to pass. Sora just woke up this morning to suddenly find everything to be way out of his reach. Confused, the brunette wondered around the house after discovering he couldn't get the door open on his own. Sora needed to find help and fast. Spitfire had been following him most of the day until the pair finally managed to climb out of the kitchen window. Ruffnut had been walking by just in time to see the mass of dark brown fur with paws that seemed too large for it to fall onto his side leaving the chief's house. Things had gone downhill from there and now Sora was just desperate to find a safe haven.

Sora's vision and hearing were heightened in his current feline form. And even with these amplified senses the brunette still kept getting lost! He skid to a stop, panting heavily, and looked around quickly to try and establish just where he was. It would be some time before the twins and Snotlout reorganized, so now was the time to catch his barrings.

If his hastily composed memory served him correctly, he was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from his goal. But any sense of relief Sora might have felt was lost when he noticed people had stopped in middle of whatever it is they had been doing to stare at him. One woman had ceased walking in mid-step while a little girl with long brunette pigtails was peeking out of a window to look down at the fuzzy dark brown ball of fur in front of her house. While the woman looked caught somewhere between surprise and resisting whatever murderous urges she might have had toward anything of the feline variety, the little girl squealed happily before jumping down from the windowsill.

Sora's ears flattened against his head at the high pitched noise, but they quickly popped up again when the girl flung her front door open. And while Sora was more than a little thick headed at times, he recognized that look the little girl was giving him. He'd never had the look directed at him (as far as he knew), but after years of growing up around Kairi and Selphie, Sora had longed learned to recognize the signs of a girl fascinated with something they deemed "_so-cute-they-wanted-to-hug-it-until-its-head-popped-off_".

And that scared Sora far more than Astrid throwing potatoes at him ever could.

The little girl's eyes widened before she made another squealing noise that Sora could only assume meant she was _very_ happy and _very_ eager to cuddle him. His own pupils dilated and his ears flattened as much as possible as he sank down onto his stomach with his tail tucked up underneath him. The little girl held both of her arms out wide as if she was expecting him to jump into her arms. But when he didn't the girl dropped her arms and looked perplexed before she began to approach him.

Sora wanted to run away, but he also didn't want to make the girl upset. And he really didn't want to growl for fear of scaring her. The woman from earlier was also approaching him out of the corner of his eye. And while under normal circumstances Sora would have been perplexed by her approach, his newly garnered animal instincts were taking control. If you corner any animal, it will fight until it's set free, exhaustion overcame it, or death. And seeing as how death wasn't on the menu and Sora still had plenty of energy in reserve, he was left with only one option.

Mustering up a quiet growl, Sora's muscles tensed as the little girl got closer. His eyes were drawn to her since she was the closest to him and to his level. Sora fought his instincts to run just long enough for the girl to reach out and tousle what used to be his hair between his flattened ears. But the second he felt the contact, Sora couldn't hold back anymore. He jumped backwards, turned, and took off running.

Sora could hear the little girl running after him, giggling in pure delight. He couldn't tell if the woman was following and right now he didn't want to risk looking back to find out.

And thus, Sora was back to running blindly through Berk.

They ran past several buildings before Sora took a dive between two of them. As soon as he wormed his way out of the narrow alley, his world suddenly went black. And it was rank with the smell of something dead. His nose wrinkled up at the horrific stench, but he couldn't seem to put any distance between himself and the source. Whatever he was laying on felt slimy and made a squishing sound when he moved. For the second time that day, Sora found himself lying on his back with his feet up in the air. Only there were no clouds for him to stare at. All of his leg muscles were stiff and his paw pads ached from overuse. The world began to move against his will and Sora felt his head bump against something.

He took a few quick seconds to quickly survey his new surroundings. Little dots and thin slivers of light peeked into his unexpectedly dark world. Whatever his back was against was squishier than the ground and the source of the grotesque aroma. Sora could hear movement, but at this point there was no way for him to detect the origin. He felt the world begin to move again as if he was being lifted up in the air. Both of his ears jerked upright and his nostrils flared, but he couldn't smell anything past the malodorous odor.

Slowly, his paws began to lower so that his front feet rested against his furry chest and his back ones against his soft belly. Sora chose to lay there for a few moments; too scared to move for fear of the little girl finding him.

A small voice called out, drawing Sora's attention away from his peculiar and rather sudden predicament.

"Where'd the big kitty go?"

It was the little girl.

Sora felt his muscles seize up once again. He had to restrain himself from extending his claws for fear of accidentally puncturing himself.

Thankfully, a distraction came in another voice.

"I think it ran that way."

Was that Astrid? And why was she here?

"Thank you!"

The hastily spoken words of gratitude were quickly followed by rapid footfalls that gradually became softer, indicating whoever was running was moving away from his location. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Sora's muscles nearly went limb. But his moment of solace didn't last long before he felt the world moving against his will again. After a few minutes of movement and what sounded like a door closing, the activity changed to something akin to him slowly falling judging by the feeling of his stomach rising into his ribcage.

Curious, Sora tried to squirm upright into a sitting position. But the space he currently occupied wasn't very large and he was taking up the majority of the free room. A large circle of light opened up above him, causing temporary blindness. Sora tried to battle against it by covering his eyes with his massive paws. Again, his plans were foiled when he felt a pair of hands reach down and lift him up from what used to be his armpits. Instantly Sora was back on alert and he protested sharply, but he quickly shut-up when he realized who it was.

"What . . . in Thor's name . . . did you do?"

Blinking against the newly added light, Sora found himself staring up at Astrid. She had removed her hands and was giving him a look of confusion. Sora was currently sitting with half of his body in what he could now tell was a wicker basket that had fish at the bottom of it. The brunette-turned-lion offered up an innocent, toothy grin followed by a quick, "I didn't do anything!" However, all he was met with was an even more perplexed look on Astrid's face before her eyes narrowed into her usual glare. "Oh great." She didn't sound too happy. This confused Sora, causing him to tilt his head and blinked several times. The blond scowled in return and moved to pick up the fish off of the floor. "I can't understand a word you're saying."

If Astrid was unable to comprehend what he was saying, then it was fairly safe to assume that nobody on Berk could. This presented a problem in the communication's department. Which in turn was a major setback in figuring out just what had caused this mess. Judging by the amount of fish she was carrying, Astrid had dumped some from the basket in order to catch Sora inside of it. At least she was able to tell it was him.

Sora could only sit quietly and be grateful that Astrid didn't find anything "_adorable_" (again, as far as he knew) as she left the room with the fish. The brunette took the time to look around to try and decipher just where she had taken him. The interior of the house didn't appear to be familiar. Then again, Sora had only resided in a select few buildings during his stay in Berk and most of those places were open to the general public anyway. And there wasn't anybody else present in the building that he was aware of.

There was what Sora assumed was supposed to resemble a wooden couch with faded blue cushions up against the wall behind him and the basket he currently sat in was on said couch. A fire had not been lit and a few shields hung on the walls.

Curious to explore further, Sora tried to climb his way out of the basket. What he ended up doing was tipping over and falling onto his side. He scrambled up to his feet just in time for Astrid to return. The noise must have alerted her that something was up. She eyed him warily before approaching and lifting up the basket of remaining fish. Sora stared back up at her once he managed to seat himself comfortably. He was grateful to Astrid for rescuing him from the little girl, but he couldn't find the words to express it without sounding pathetic.

After a few moments of silence, Astrid's eye twitched. "You are Sora . . . right?" A sheepish smile spread across Sora's furry muzzle as he eagerly nodded his head. "Yes!" Astrid gaze became more scrutinizing. After a few moments, realization finally dawned on Sora that she might not speak lion. Thinking of the next best thing to prove his identity, Sora summoned the Keyblade in his mouth. Astrid's expression morphed to one of a grimace before she groaned and shook her head. "You're Spiky all right." Taking this with satisfaction, Sora dismissed the Kingdom Key and wiggled with anticipation. As to just what he was expecting, even he didn't know.

Giving a loud sigh, Astrid motioned for him to follow her as she moved back into the kitchen area. Sora jumped down from the couch with ease and padded along behind her. The smell of fish was oddly enticing to him all of the sudden. He licked his lips when he saw Astrid removing them from the basket before being drawn toward the open woven container when it was placed on the ground in front of him. Before Sora could inquire as to just what was going on, he felt the skin on the back of his neck being grabbed. Instinctively, his feet curled beneath him as she deftly lifted him up into the air and dropped him inside of the basket. But before she could close the lid, Sora stood up on his hind feet, placed his front legs over the lip of the basket, and looked up at the blond with the most guilt-free expression he could muster.

Astrid stared down at him, suddenly grateful for trying to learn a dragon's mood from their facial expressions and noises they make. It really helped that Sora made it pretty obvious what he was trying to convey. "If we're going to get the bottom of this, it's best you lay low for a while." After the fiasco she discovered him in (and Snotlout yelling something about a deformed cat roaming around Berk), there were bound to be people on the look-out for a feline of varying descriptions. Loki only knew what they would do to a non-native, cat-like creature that tripped over its own paws when spooked.

Sora sort of understood the need to keep himself hidden, but he didn't like the idea of being carted around in a wicker basket that was barely big enough for him to move around in without any say about where he was being taken. But he trusted Astrid enough not to throw him into the ocean. So the brunette settled back into the basket as comfortably as possible before Astrid closed and latched the lip down.

There wasn't a lot of space for a feline of his size in a basket only meant to cart around a small load. He couldn't sit upright, so Sora was resigned to resting the majority of his weight on top of his lower back a few inches above the base of his tail. He leaned back against the basket, feeling Astrid's own back on the opposite side. The lion cub lazily placed his front paws against his stomach. Both of his back legs and bottom were up against the opposite curved wall of the basket with his feet up in the air at an odd angle. This left his tail partially curled upward from between his back legs, the small tuft of fur dangling just above his front paws. His spine was forced to arch forward with the curvature of the basket. The spikes of his hair were only a few inches from his suspended back feet, leaving Sora with a very limited comfort zone.

"I can't believe I'm talking to a cat . . ."

It was a hushed confession, but Sora picked up on it regardless of how softly the statement was whispered. He wanted to reassure Astrid that there was nothing wrong with talking to animals but they'd already determined she couldn't understand him. Against his better judgment, Sora attempted to mimic a gentle purring sound he'd heard Toothless make on a number of occasions. Astrid didn't remark on the noise, but Sora hoped she knew he was sorry for putting her in such a position.

The world began to move again as Astrid lifted the basket onto her back and worked her arms through the leather straps. She slowly adjusted its position until she was comfortable before taking a few steps back into the main part of the house. Sora remained quiet to the best of his abilities and tried to remain as still as possible. His back paws extended their claws, sinking them into the side of the basket as a means of anchoring himself down. When Astrid stopped moving and Sora didn't hear the door opening, he couldn't resist making a questioning sound along the lines of, "What's wrong?" When Astrid didn't reprimand him for the noise, Sora remained silent in anticipation for an answer. His ears strained to pick up on any source of noise from the blond Viking.

Eventually, he picked up on a shuffling noise before they resumed moving. "I hope Hiccup has a better idea on what do about this than I do." He was the one who was brains-over-brawn after all. And if he could understand Toothless so well, maybe he could make heads-or-tails of what Sora was trying to tell her. Everyone in Berk who spent more than ten seconds around Toothless knew just how expressive the Night Fury was in comparison to the other dragons when it came to conveying his emotion using only his face.

Taking Astrid's statement as a signal of their destination, Sora settled down again as best as he possibly could. It sounded like they would be heading toward the forge, which was the original objective he'd had in mind. With the sound of a door opening and closing, Sora reminded himself to remain silent until the all clear was given.

The basket still reeked of fish, but it wasn't as potent now that the slimy aquatic creatures weren't underneath him. The fur on his back felt matted in places, indicating fish slime had worked its way in. Meaning a bath was in store whenever the next opportunity presented itself. Sora may have been a in cat form, but the idea of licking him for a bath was not appealing.

Sora's ears twitched at every sound they came across. He heard people talking, children laughing, various dragons, metal clinking, doors closing, and boots crunching over stone. Sora tried to concentrate on Astrid's footfalls, but with so many other sounds and his heightened hearing, it was difficult. A few people stopped Astrid and asked about different bits and ends. At one point he could have sworn Astrid's father had stopped the blond and asked something about dinner. Sora didn't pay much attention to the questions until he recognized one of the voices. He couldn't help but tilt his head back and pay attention to the exchanging of words.

"Astrid! Did you hear?" Fishlegs sure sounded excited about something.

"Hear what?"

"About the Psycho Kitty!"

Astrid stopped walking. "The what?"

"Uh - huh! It's in league with the gnomes!" Sora imagined the rotund boy was fidgeting with excitement judging by his hasty tone and higher pitch.

"Who told you a bogus story like that?" Astrid, in contrast, sounded the exact opposite of amused.

Truth be told, her patience was already wearing thin. Astrid had a sneaking suspicion she already knew just who was behind the tall - tale. Then again, she'd never been one to believe the stories about gnomes and trolls, but Astrid played along the with stories anyway when it was all in good humor. If there was no solid, tangible proof, then why should any of them believe the elaborate fantasies of their drunken elders? It was when they were taken seriously that the blond was left wondering the exact I.Q. of her fellow vikings. But they were a superstitious folk if nothing else. That was a discussion best left for another time and place.

". . . Gobber."

Silence.

After a few hesitant moments, Fishlegs pressed onward. "He said they steal innocent children who find them cute to feed the gnome overlords!"

Hearing this, Sora nearly slammed his paw against his forehead. Had word already spread that far? And where did Gobber come up with these ideas? Maybe Hiccup was right. Maybe Gobber really was insane.

And Astrid seemed to be thinking along the same lines judging by her tone. "No, I haven't seen this _Psycho Kitty_."

Not one to be easily deterred, Fishlegs pressed onward as if she hadn't sounded just the slightest bit annoyed. "If baby Gronkles have a +8 in being adorable, this thing is like twice that. Don't fall for its tricks!"

"Will do." If Sora wasn't mistaken, it sounded more like she was trying to get the boy to leave her alone rather than heed his warnings.

Fishlegs bid the blond a quick farewell before taking off to Astrid's left, likely to warn more people about the now famous deadly feline. Groaning quietly (at least by Astrid's standards given her lost patience), the blond continued her trip in silence. People seemed to bother her less, leading Sora to belief the "crisis" had passed or everyone was more focused on hunting him down than one Viking wondering in the opposite direction of all of the rapid footfalls Sora was picking up on. Either way, it made him fairly nervous.

Left with nothing to distract himself with, Sora tried to spy anything through the small gaps in the woven basket's material. Nothing was very distinguishable or very interesting to look at. He wanted to ask Astrid how much further, but he wasn't supposed to make any noise. Well, that, and she probably wouldn't have understood him. This effectively left him with only his thoughts to pass the time while being enclosed in a small, confined space.

Right before he was at his breaking point with the silence, he felt Astrid stop moving. Curious, but still aware that he should remain quiet, Sora perked his ears forward and turned his head to try and hear anything Astrid might say. He almost regretted it a split second later when a booming voice overcame his sensitive hearing. It took all of Sora's willpower not to yelp as he winced and covered his ears with his paws.

"Did ye hear about the Psycho Kitty?" The outcry was quickly followed by a loud ruckus of banging metal.

Biting back a groan, Astrid gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not here for your silly stories, Gobber. Where's Hiccup?"

Gobber's distinctive laugh that followed hurt Sora's ears. He couldn't suppress a whimper, but it was thankfully drowned out by Gobber's gleeful cackle. "He left not too long ago. Said somet'ing about try'n out a new rig for Toother." Happy the bellowing was over, Sora slowly removed his paws from his ears to try and hear Astrid. It sounded like she'd successfully distracted Gobber from the _Psycho Kitty_ nonsense at least.

"Mind if I wait here for him then?" If Hiccup was trying out something new, he'd likely land as close to the forge as possible in case there were any tweaks that needed to be made or additions to any blueprints he might have made.

Sora had to credit the blond for not sounding desperate or urgent. Astrid spoke in her usual tone, albeit rather casually. Most people in Berk were learning to attribute this slight change as Hiccup's doing. And since he was already the topic on hand, there were no indications as to her true intentions. "Truth be told," Gobber replied as he moved something heavy, "I think he just wanted an excuse to get out of work early. I'm closing up around here." The news perplexed Sora a bit, but maybe they were getting off work early today from lack of work to actually do.

Astrid started moving again and the colors Sora saw through the holes in the basket started changing from dull grays to rich browns. The temperature rapidly started rising and he could have sworn he was hearing a fire blazing. All of these were clear indicators that they were now inside the forge. The only problem was that the sudden spike in heat was causing Sora to pant as a means of keeping himself cool. Being covered head-to-toe in a thick coat of fur had its drawbacks. He hadn't even realized he was doing it until he felt the basket moved and it sounded like someone was messing with the leather latch. The potable container was jerked to the side, causing Sora to yelp quietly as he tried to stop himself from being tossed around. He reached out and sank his claws into the basket, but his panting continued and steadily began to rise in frequency.

"Just what're ye hide'n in there?"

The surging alarm going off in his head was not helping Sora's panting problem. He usually wasn't one to panic so easily, but the heat and forced confinement were getting to him. The basket tumbled onto its side somehow, eliciting a very displeased yowl of surprise on Sora's part. The basket was quickly righted again. No sooner was he sitting upright once more before the basket was yanked up off of wherever he'd been placed. The sides seemed to be caving in around him. Sora tried to put some space between himself and the lid, but in hindsight it was a futile attempt. His pupils dilated, his heart rate nearly doubled, and his fur began to bristle. All the moving around wasn't helping either.

With one last jerk, Astrid seemed to have the basket to herself again. "It's just a sick Terror! I was going to ask Hiccup to have a look at him!" The bold-faced lie would have earned a look from Sora if he'd been able to contort his face into something other than one of stricken panic. However, the lie seemed to placate Gobber enough to stop trying to see the basket's contents. He gave Astrid a push before moving to put the fires out, causing the temperature to flat-line and the some of the noise to stop invading Sora's skull. "Take it to the back room and don't let it escape." Confused by the order, Sora blearily tried to regain his bearings after the juggling fit. His brain started swimming when Gobber gave the order, causing Sora not to catch anything that was said after the word "escape". All he could do was moan weakly and hold his head, doing his best to keep what little food he had down.

Maybe Astrid was only half - lying. While he wasn't a Terrible Terror, Sora's stomach felt more twisted than a pretzel.

The following minutes were one big blur. The few things Sora could vaguely recall were slow movements and Astrid swearing an oath about not knowing where she was going. Eventually, Sora felt the world come to a stop and placed onto something hard and study. He could smell a candle being lit between the last dying waves of nausea. The lid to the basket was undone and removed, but Sora didn't feel Astrid's bony hands lifting him up. He whined pitifully, having long given up trying to be quiet since the tossing had started.

Slowly, mindful of his stomach, Sora placed his front paws on the lip of the basket and pulled his upper half out. He leaned heavily to the side, his laborious breathing already beginning the gradual process of going back to normal. It wasn't as hot wherever he currently was and it wasn't very bright. Both of these things he was grateful for. Sora could tell he was within a small room, but there was more space to move around out here than in the basket. His fur was matted in places from sweat and his chin had a thin dribble of spit from having his mouth open with his tongue hanging out during his panting fit.

"Okay, so maybe this wasn't my brightest idea ever."

Sora would take that as an apology since he highly doubted the words "sorry" ever left Astrid's lips. He raised a paw and dismissively waved in the general direction her voice came from. He vaguely heard Astrid shuffling through something before feeling short blasts of cold air blow against his face. Sora blinked against his blurry vision to look over. He wasn't really expecting it, but Astrid was couched on the ground next to him, fanning a thick piece of parchment a few inches from his face to help him cool down faster. Sora stared up at her, offering a small smile as he did so, before making his first attempt to get out of the basket. It ended with him once again lying on the ground, but it was better than being cooped up in that woven basket. With what little energy he could muster, Sora pulled himself free before collapsing one last time on his side, too exhausted to go any further.

Astrid continued to fan him for several minutes before she abruptly stopped. Sora lifted his head up to see just why, only to find she wasn't even looking at him. Instead, the blond's attention was drawn toward the wall behind him. Sora cocked his head to the side, eventually resorting to rolling onto his back to try and see what was holding her attention.

There was a large piece of brown parchment that was stained in places tacked to the wall. On it were sketches of different machines with handwritten runes Sora couldn't read. A lot of the old drawings resembled weapons or some sort of compound and were drawn in fading charcoal. Toward the center of the wall were quick doodles tacked on top of the larger parchment of Toothless or more intricate outlines of the Night Fury's tailfin mechanism. It was hard to tell much else since only one little candle was lit. That, and there was a desk in Sora's line of sight that he couldn't quite see over.

Sora's attention was pulled away from the wall when Astrid sighed. His ear flicked and he sat up on his back haunches to survey her. While the noise she uttered sounded unenthusiastic, her smile expressed otherwise. Sora grinned in turn and cocked his head to the side. Astrid didn't look down at him as her smile grew a little bit more, causing her nose to wrinkle in a funny way. "Gobber did say the back room," she said as if this justified their presence in Hiccup's designated work place. Sora almost felt bad for being there. Judging by the look on Astrid's face, she didn't seem to be the least bit worried. Taking that as a sign to just relax and accept their fate, Sora leisurely flopped back onto his side. He was still pretty worn out after discovering what a giant pinball in a tiny pinball machine felt like. He curled up in a loose ball, voiced one complacent yawn, then quietly gave into the world of dreams without protest.

* * *

With Sora in a near comatose state, Astrid took the moment of respite for a much needed breather. She'd had a rather bland day up until she was on her way home to feed Birdbrain. It was then that she spotted the blur of dark brown dart across her line of sight. At first, Astrid thought a large chicken must have gotten out judging by how adamantly the twins were chasing after it.

Figuring she would be doing Berk a favor, Astrid attempted to catch it after her chores were taken care of if the problem hadn't resolved itself by then. Knowing the twins and Snotlout, they would continue to terrorize whatever the poor beast was until it was overcome by exhaustion or died of a heart attack. She just wasn't expecting the blasted thing go around her house and charge at her. Instincts had gotten the better of her, hence why half of her stock of fish was on the ground and the furry mass had been relocated to her basket. She hadn't even considered what she was doing until she was alone in her living room with the large auburn feline staring at her. The only clues Astrid had as to just what the mass of fur's true identity was had to do with the chain around its throat and the outrageous hairstyle sticking up from between and around its round ears. And here she thought it looked ridiculous enough on a human head!

And, for the record, Astrid knew she was going to have to find a way to somehow pin this on Hiccup. She liked to think her life had been fairly normal before he decided to force her onto one temperamental Night Fury. At that point, Astrid had resigned herself into accepting that her life henceforth would never be the same, but she didn't think it was going to be this crazy! While she did enjoy a good adventure, lately Astrid found herself wondering if she'd ever be able to go a week without something new or strange coming into her life.

Blowing up into her bangs, Astrid silently eased herself up off of the floor. Not that such care was necessary. After that experience with Sora and the rafters, it was fairly safe to assume that when Sora called it a night, he was dead to the world for at least the next seven hours. A part of her wanted to reach down and ruffle his fur just to know what it felt like. But the idea in itself was just plain weird. So she left the slumbering feline alone in favor of making herself scarce.

Astrid sauntered out of the small room; in part because she wasn't a fan of small, enclosed spaces and partially because the idea of invading something as personal as Hiccup's workspace just didn't sit well with her. She'd seen enough already and felt awkward having just stared at his wall of doodles. On several occasions in the past, Astrid had debated on encroaching upon Hiccup's bedroom when the opportunity presented itself. And every single time she came to the same conclusion she was at that very moment; if it'd been her bedroom, would she have tolerated somebody barging in and going through her personal things? Most certainly not! And while the idea of messing with Hiccup usually sounded like a means of striking up a conversation and having a good ol' time at his expense, there were still some lines Astrid was not willing to cross.

She'd debated on removing Sora, but decided against it in favor of making sure she didn't touch anything. Gobber may have willingly left her alone in his forge, but the senior blacksmith had also left Hiccup alone in this very room in the middle of dragon raids and look what had happened because of his hasty judgment and ill-placed faith? On top of that, Astrid highly doubted either blacksmith would appreciate things being misplaced or tampered with.

Just how she got herself into this mess was mystery in of itself. A few months ago and it was doubtful Astrid would have tried to help Sora even if she'd known him before this whole hodgepodge of adversities she was finding herself more frequently involved in had taken place. And that right there was Hiccup's fault. He'd forced her to open up, asked her to at least tolerate Sora, and left the foreigner alone to his own devices, thus leading to whatever had caused his furry change in appearance. Not to mention the "bad luck" that seemed to hover over Hiccup like bees to honey.

Biting back a harsh remark, Astrid set to work relighting the forge's main furnace. It was getting cold out despite the recent shower and she wasn't dressed to fight the growing chill. That and if she sat here for too much longer, she might not be able to see where the weapons hanging on the walls were located. After the incident with the dragon eggs, Astrid didn't want to further mimic Hiccup's astonishing record of clumsiness by walking into a wall of sharp objects. That was asking to lose an eye and she needed both of them in order for her depth perception and aim to be spot on should the need for her deadly skills arise.

The low flames were enough to light up the forge and defend against the first nipping signs of nightfall. Satisfied with her work, Astrid ventured back to where Sora was lounging to make sure he hadn't spontaneously grown wings or was no longer a light sleeper despite the fact that cats slept for at least half of the entire day. Thankfully, the large malkin hadn't moved from where she'd left him.

Honestly, she had no idea what sort of feline Sora was supposed to represent. He was far too large to be your average domestic cat but was still slightly smaller than full-grown lynx. Judging by the size of his paws, Sora was in the fairly early stages of whatever species he was supposed to resemble. And what if he wasn't a cat at all? Toothless made purring sounds and he most certainly was not a feline. Maybe if a cat, a bat, and a salamander made one baby, then you'd have something closely resembling Toothless, but that was about as close as those differing species ever got.

Sitting around and doing nothing was hardly something anybody would ask for. Seeing as how she knew nothing about the job of a blacksmith aside from sharpening weapons, really didn't want to be responsible for missing equipment, already felt on edge for being at the scene of the crime of countless _Hiccup-ideas-gone-wrong_, and had to supervise a snoozing cat that most people wouldn't recognize, Astrid groaned to herself before pulling up a stool near the fire.

". . . That's it; no more rescuing distressed kittens."


End file.
